


stars around my scars

by izayas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Break Up, Slow Burn, is there a tag for childhood friends to dating to hating each other back to dating??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 186,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayas/pseuds/izayas
Summary: “right people, wrong time. it’s a real thing," kuroo said, bringing his beer to his lips. "you and iwaizumi could be meant for each other, the stars just said 'nah, not yet.'""stars don't talk, tetsu-chan."--iwaizumi hajime and oikawa tooru lasted for eight months before they break up, and it took the universe nine years to lead them back to each other.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, background matsuhana, background sakuatsu - Relationship
Comments: 850
Kudos: 1071
Collections: Haikyuu!!, Haikyuu!! Iwaoi





	1. a kingdom come undone

**Author's Note:**

> main ship is iwaoi. sakuatsu will be hinted at throughout the chapters and culminate in the first half of chapter 16. matsuhana, kuroken, kagehina, and bokuaka are established and implied/mentioned.
> 
> it'll be mostly canon compliant (ex: iwa as an athletic trainer), but will have some deviations (ex: oikawa not playing in argentina)
> 
> thank you as always to my beta, [loveandallthat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandallthat) ♡

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "get out."

_Iwaizumi hoped his neighbors weren't home because he knew from their extracurriculars that the walls felt more like sound amplifiers than barriers at times._

_Grunting as his body met the wall harshly, any instances of pain were quickly overwhelmed by the mouth on his, the body against his. He sighed into the kiss and brought a free hand up, tangling his fingers through hair longer and much softer than his. His touch was gentle at first, until he felt teeth biting down harshly on his lip. Iwaizumi winced and retaliated by grasping a fistful of hair, yanking back and moving his mouth to the newly exposed neck, actions fueled by the moans filling his small apartment._

_The vibrations he felt as he kissed along the throat only encouraged him and he tightened his grip on the tresses. He teased the skin with both his lips and his teeth, alternating between petal soft kisses and harsh bites, moving down to exposed collarbones, hearing heavy pants._

For the first ten seconds of every day, everything was all right.

It didn't matter if Iwaizumi had slept two hours or twelve; the fact was that the very first time he woke up from falling asleep, there were ten blissful seconds where everything was all right. In that tiny span of time, nothing mattered and nothing hurt, because his body was slowly waking up.

First, his consciousness; his mind woke invisibly, allowing him to hear the birds outside his window and feel sunlight warming his exposed skin. Slowly but surely, his body was lulled towards consciousness.

Then his eyes; despite how groggily it was, they would slowly see the morning sun illuminate specks of dust floating through his room. His vision would slowly bring everything into focus, and Iwaizumi would see the familiar sight of his bedroom, blank walls riddled with stains and marks and haphazardly scattered clothes strewn about.

And then the rest of his body would slowly wake; sensation slowly spreading down his body, through his limbs, and to his extremities. Two arms and two legs, ten fingers and ten toes; everything was accounted for, everything was present.

He'd take his first deep breath of the day and it was almost like his body had its own checklist. It made sure that he, Iwaizumi Hajime, was still there and fully accounted for.

And as soon as it was done:

Reality would crash into him like a meteorite impact.

_Switching their positions, Iwaizumi slammed the slender frame against the opposite wall. The moans he heard were maddening, almost overwhelming his senses to the point where he barely felt nails dragging over his skin in an attempt to pull off his shirt. Chest heaving, Iwaizumi allowed separation of their bodies just long enough to grab a fistful of his shirt at the nape of his neck and pull it off in a seamless motion. Tossing it to the side, he looked away and only heard another rumpling noise to indicate more clothes had joined the pile. He couldn't say if he was pulled in for the next kiss or if he initiated it; he felt hot palms frame his face and a tongue slip into his mouth. It tasted so strongly of whiskey that Iwaizumi wondered if it could actually make him even drunker._

_By the age of twenty-seven, Iwaizumi had come to a precarious agreement with alcohol: he would allow it to fuck him up, but just not that often._

_He seldom drank to begin with, but if he did, he knew to not have five drinks in a row; instead, if he spread them out, he would not only be on his way to avoid blacking out, but that buzzing sensation would last longer instead of hitting him all at once._

_And, he supposed, he did abide by his adage._

_He didn't have five drinks in a row._

_He'd had eight and had a feeling a good majority of them had been doubles._

His entire body ached, but the dulled pain was much preferable to the piercing headache that seemed to pulsate with his heartbeat. He'd spent a good majority of his life training his body to be in the best physical shape, but at this moment, even the idea of raising a hand seemed monumental. It took an immense amount of effort, but he slowly brought a hand up to his face and pressed the heel of his palm against his temple, swearing quietly under his breath.

Then in signature hangover fashion, the rising nausea stemming from emptiness in his stomach followed. Iwaizumi hated drinking; even when he'd been in college, he'd never drank for the taste or even for the slight buzz. If he drank, it was to the point of not being able to feel even his face because if he couldn't fall asleep, he could at least render himself numb. Iwaizumi could count on one hand the number of times he'd done that, and there was only one time he'd drank enough to have a hangover comparable to this one.

Iwaizumi was headstrong and normally wanted to confront his problems, but the spectrum of human emotion included feelings so intense that if Iwaizumi didn't numb himself and had to feel it all, he swore he wouldn't survive it.

_He shuddered to feel soft lips and hot breath skim along his jawline and then down his throat, peppering kisses and bites. "Don't leave a hickey," he groaned hoarsely, wincing at a sharp bite. His words were met with a laugh and Iwaizumi could feel his belt being undone._

_Lips came up to his again, a lazy, drawn out kiss that stole his breath away from him. "What…" he heard mockingly._

_The feeling of kisses being trailed down his body rendered him speechless, and Iwaizumi was left in a daze, letting his head fall back, parted lips barely remembering to inhale. Half-lidded, dazed eyes stared at his ceiling as he felt both his pants and boxers being pulled down just enough, swallowing and biting his lip when he felt warmth tracing along him._

_"Don't tell me you're with someone, after all…"_

_And before he could respond, the sensation of being enveloped in warmth and alcohol coursing through his veins took over him, and he was barely able to keep himself standing._

It was like ice shot through his veins.

He sat up immediately, breath catching in his throat as fear immobilized his lungs. "Fuck…"

A hand shot out and palmed along his nightstand, panic growing in his chest when he felt only plain wood and the base of his lamp. Iwaizumi tossed his covers aside and swung his legs over the side of his bed; his heels landed loudly on the floor. He stood quickly and his hangover immediately had his room spinning; Iwaizumi managed to not fall, though he was swaying, eyes squinting and hand holding his head as he navigated over to his pants halfway between his bed and the door.

_Fuck… fuck, don't tell me…_

As his heart pounded in his chest, Iwaizumi's breathing grew shallow. His shaking hands made it an even more daunting task to navigate his phone, as his headache didn't appreciate the light and eyes couldn't care less for the small font. Nevertheless, he managed to navigate to the home screen, where he saw a myriad of missed text messages.

Licking his painfully dry lips, he winced as another wave of pain shot through his head and he tapped into his chat history, squinting eyes scanning his messages.

**From: Matsukawa**

_i'm so sorry. let me know if i can do anything._

**From: Hanamaki**

_are you okay? call me back_

**From: Hanamaki**

_we have a futon set up. let me know if you wanna crash_

**From: Hinata**

_iwaizumi-san, i'm sorry to hear!! we're here if you need anything_

**From: Ushijima**

_Sorry to hear about your engagement._

Iwaizumi froze. For just a moment, everything stopped. The chirping birds were replaced by a ringing in his ears. The anxiety fueling his heart was replaced by cold in his stomach. The panting filling and emptying his lungs was replaced by a single, slow exhale. The cold sweat over his body was replaced by the kind of warmth that only dread could bring.

The searing pain in his head was gone, replaced with absolute nothingness.

His fingers, which had been trembling so badly, went limp and his phone fell to the ground, landing with a loud thump and leaving a dent. His heart, which had been racing so quickly that he was afraid it would leap out of his chest, was now pounding so harshly, that it sent reverbs through his chest. Iwaizumi slowly brought a hand to his chest, feeling the tips of his fingers skim against his skin. Once that contact was made, he touched the base of his palm against his sternum, slowly pressing harder and harder, until he thought his chest might just give in, just to feel something tangible.

_When his knees nearly buckled, Iwaizumi managed to breathe, 'stop'. It was in such a strained whisper, voiced from a throat so sore, that he wasn't sure if it would be heard. The sensations stopped after a moment, but the pleasure still lingered, lighting up his nerves. Even something as small as feeling a breeze as the other stood up had Iwaizumi shuddering._

_"Don't tell me," he heard and was met with dark eyes. "You're seriously attached? Ahh… you're a piece of shit…"_

_Scoffing, Iwaizumi lifted a hand and tangled his fingers through the locks of hair and crashed their lips together again. He felt absolutely no resistance to the kiss and angled his head to deepen it, pressing their mouths together so harshly it was almost painful. He navigated their bodies into his bedroom, kicking off his pants along the way._

_His bed creaked with the sudden weight of a new body and Iwaizumi was quick to undo the single remaining belt and zipper remaining between them, allowing them to be kicked off as his hands touched over exposed skin, fingers curling and leaving pink welts in their wake. "That's none of your business," he grunted._

_A laugh that irritated Iwaizumi more than he could describe._

_Moving his hand down the newly fully exposed body, Iwaizumi was pressing kisses along the sharp jaw when he heard words again and was growing increasingly annoyed at the amount of talking in a generally non-talkative activity. "You're a pretty shitty person to cheat on—"_

_Iwaizumi smirked briefly when his fingers touched a sensitive spot._

_"Y-your girlfriend…"_

_"Tch… I'm not attached to anyone," he snapped, pulling back just enough to reach into his nightstand drawer for a bottle of lubricant. "Not anymore," he continued. "Not that that was going to stop you."_

_Hearing a laugh, Iwaizumi looked down to see a heart stopping smirk._

_"Well, I didn't say I was a good person."_

Last night, alcohol and darkness muddled features, but in daylight and sobriety, nothing was stopping Iwaizumi from clearly identifying the face of someone who had haunted him for years. He didn't even have to turn around to know he was still in his bed; Iwaizumi's eyes were still closed, but that smirk was burned into his memory.

"…Fuck."

Iwaizumi exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He heard movement behind him; it was slight, but the superpower of a hangover was ultra-sensitive hearing, at the cost of pain. He swallowed thickly and dropped his head, feeling the dip between his shoulders exaggerate.

He closed his eyes, breathing ragged in an attempt to keep his cool.

"Get _out_."

Rubbing his face, Iwaizumi heard footsteps and clothes rumpling. He couldn't help but swear quietly again when he felt the other person walk past him, felt a cool rush of wind. "You were right, by the way," he drawled, opening his eyes tiredly finally to watch the six foot one, haphazardly dressed dark brown haired man at his door, pulling on his shoes. "You're a terrible fucking person."

The other laughed shortly, opening the door without ever once looking behind him.

"Yeah, well, takes one to know one, _Iwa-chan_."

The door slammed shut behind him.

* * *

It all came rushing back, details from last night crashing into Iwaizumi at a two hundred kilometers an hour.

Having expected a late night practice with the team, Iwaizumi was pleasantly surprised when it ended at a reasonable hour. He had texted Himari to ask her what her plans were and when she didn't answer, decided to pick up her favorite dinner from a shop along the way to her apartment. Iwaizumi would admit that he hadn't been as present in their relationship as he should have been. They had gotten engaged maybe a month ago and as unfair as it was, it had partially been to reassure her that he was serious about the relationship. It was just a phase, he told himself, he'd recently started what he had considered his dream career, and he wanted to solidify his footing in the role, and it came at the cost of his personal relationship.

She had brought up multiple times how he'd seemed distant and spent more time at his job than with her. Iwaizumi was tired of the fight because it always started, elapsed, and ended the same way.

_"I can't just not go; what if one of the idiots injures himself? Have you met the members of the national team? They are all fucking idiots."_

_"Well, it's a great thing we have something called a hospital, don't we?"_

When he'd showed up at her apartment, he wasn't too perturbed to find that she had a friend over. She didn't seem like she'd appreciate being kissed, and so he left it at a simple greeting and offered her the bag of take-out, told her to have a good night. Her friend had called a cheerful 'thank you,' but when Himari didn't say anything and just glared at him, Iwaizumi sighed, momentarily letting his head fall back to roll his neck and stretch out a few tense muscles.

_"You know I don't do passive aggressive, Himari," he said tiredly. "Either get over it or spit it out."_

_She bristled._

_"That's it? 'Get over it'?" she snapped, and Iwaizumi regarded her warily, but couldn't help but narrow his eyes. "You think this makes up for all the anniversaries you've missed? Dates you've stood me up on? You, showing up once as a surprise? Did you think I'd just always be waiting around for you?"_

_"Why are you getting more upset about this than I am?" he asked tiredly. "I'm not upset that you're too busy to hang out tonight; just eat the food with Yachi. We'll hang out some other—"_

_"We're engaged, Hajime, stop talking about us like we've just started dating!"_

_By this point, Yachi had come over and tried to ameliorate the tension, slowly taking the takeout from Iwaizumi and setting it on the counter. "You know, I can leave! This is the first time Iwaizumi-san's had a night off, so you two should—"_

_"No," Himari said sharply, never once interrupting her glare towards Iwaizumi. Yachi visibly shrunk back and Iwaizumi couldn't help but feel bad for her. He just gave another sigh and ran a hand through his hair; there was maybe one too many beats of silence, because she spoke first and Iwaizumi would forever wonder what would've happened if he'd spoken first._

_"We're over anyway. Just go, Hajime. Don't bother coming back. We're done."_

He'd met Himari in his last year of college, and they'd been friends for about three years before starting to date. Iwaizumi hadn't had any relationships in college and spent most of it recovering from a failed one in high school, so when he met Himari, he made it explicitly clear early on that he wasn't looking to date. She'd just laughed, tucked a strand of her warm brown hair behind her ear.

_"I mean, the coffee was going to be a bribe for you to share your notes with me, but you must really think highly of yourself to assume it's a date."_

While he still considered Hanamaki and Matsukawa his closest friends, over time, Himari slowly ingrained herself into the group, bringing them back up to four people once again. Iwaizumi didn't deny that over the years he started to care for her more than a friend and when he asked her out, she'd beamed, teased that she'd known all along this would happen.

It was the first time in a long time that he smiled genuinely.

Maybe it was the pressure of a relationship. She certainly didn't seem to mind when he had to bail at the last minute because of work or school when they were friends, but she'd started telling him how it upset her when they dated. At the beginning, Iwaizumi tried to be understanding, but the patience he normally had for someone he cared about quickly faded because these fights were too familiar. He understood that as a boyfriend, he should be prioritizing her. But, he would say, it wasn't as if he was choosing someone else over her. This was his job; this was his career, why did she still take such an issue with it?

Most of their fights were about that, but over time, more fights came up. When he proposed, it had been maybe the first week in a year where they had no fights, but then they started up again. The fights always ended the same way; she'd yell, he'd defend himself, and then a few days later he would apologize and she would forgive him. But somewhere along the way, it seemed that she'd stopped forgiving him, and Iwaizumi hadn't realized it.

Did he miss the signs? His high school relationship was similar; he'd been accused of not being properly invested in the relationship.

Maybe, Iwaizumi thought, he just wasn't meant to be in a relationship.

After Oikawa left, Iwaizumi immediately went to take a shower, scrubbing extra hard as if he could wash off the parts of him that Oikawa had touched with soap and scalding water. He was in the shower for almost an hour, standing under the water; every time he closed his eyes, he felt Oikawa's body against his, his mouth on him and it was maddening and he nearly slipped when his fist shot out, colliding solidly with the wall.

When he finally stepped out and pulled on some clean clothes, he checked his phone to see several missed calls from Hanamaki, taking a moment to try and exhale residual annoyances before calling back. When Hanamaki declined and called back immediately with video, Iwaizumi scowled, but obliged and held his phone up, glaring tiredly. "I'm _fine_ ," he snapped. "You don't need to keep calling me; I've been through a breakup, I know how they work."

Hanamaki stared at him with an unreadable expression and when Matsukawa came into the frame, he mirrored it.

Iwaizumi snapped at them to just spit out whatever they had to say.

Hanamaki hesitated.

"…Is that a hickey?"

Iwaizumi immediately hung up; turning on his heel, he returned to the bathroom and flipped the lights on, craning his head to be able to examine his neck, immediately seeing a dark spot. _Of course_ , he thought bitterly, immediately scowling, _of course_ Oikawa would leave a hickey after explicitly being told not to. He suddenly found himself wondering if it had been before or after Iwaizumi confirmed he wasn't with anyone, felt ice prickling his cheeks until red exploded in his vision. 

"Fucking bastard…!"

Before he realized it, his mirror shattered from the impact of his fist. The sound cleared Iwaizumi's mind immediately and pain radiated from his knuckles up his arm. He gingerly pulled his fist back, watching a few small shards fall onto his bathroom counter. Slowly extending his fingers, Iwaizumi winced a bit at the pain, but focusing on it helped him to relax.

As the blood pounding in his ears slowly faded, Iwaizumi realized his phone was ringing and knew it had to be Hanamaki. He closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself with a deep breath, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. After making sure there were no glass shards in his knuckles, he headed into the kitchen to grab a rag, wrapping it around his hand before going back into his living room to answer his phone, this time only Hanamaki in the frame.

Hanamaki scoffed. "Any longer, and we would've gone to your apartment."

"You seriously need a job, Hanamaki."

"Being between jobs is a legitimate thing," Hanamaki retorted and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Setting the phone on speakerphone, he placed it down on the table and went to retrieve a first aid kit, returning just in time to answer Hanamaki's voiced concern.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, opening the case and taking out an antiseptic wipe. "You're not my parents—"

"We're just worried," Hanamaki interjected and Iwaizumi almost physically winced from the guilt. "I mean, not enough that Matsukawa's gonna skip work and, you know, there's no huge rush of urgency at his job—"

"Yeah, the dead tend to stay dead."

"But your last break-up—"

"Was nine years ago," Iwaizumi cut in sharply. Hanamaki didn't say anything at first and Iwaizumi immediately felt a bit guilty for the outburst, focusing on cleaning his knuckles. He waited until he was finished bandaging his hand up to mumble an apology. "I know why you guys are worried, but it's not like that this time."

"Hook-ups aren't your thing either. Who were you with?"

Iwaizumi's chest seized and he struggled to keep his breathing even. Flexing his hand and using the pain to ground himself, he licked his lips. "…Uh, it was just someone from the bar."

That was true.

The previous night's memories avalanched in his mind; he saw flashes of the bar, the shots, meeting Oikawa, and bringing him back to his apartment. The harder he tried to repress them, the more they came back, the same way the harder he scrubbed his skin, the more tangible Oikawa's touches from last night.

_"Whiskey, neat."_

_He paused and rubbed his face._

_"…Make it a double."_

_He kept checking his phone and each time that he saw there were no new notifications, his scowl deepened. Should he text her? Should he wait? His heart was thrumming, feeling like it was in his throat, making it hard to breathe._

_After Himari slammed the door shut in his face, Iwaizumi had been frozen in place, feet rooted as he stared blankly at the wood that muffled Yachi's words but didn't drown out the sound of her frantic voice. Himari hadn't slapped him, but humiliation had a hell of a punch and Iwaizumi barely remembered how he had navigated his way to the bar._

_Was it possible to black out without drinking anything?_

_It was only after finishing his first shot that Iwaizumi realized he hadn't eaten; what he'd intended as his dinner was now at Himari and Yachi's, possibly left there, entirely forgotten. Iwaizumi winced; he could feel the burning sensation of the alcohol traveling down his throat, settling into his stomach and mixing with the uncomfortable pit. He nodded and held up a finger when he caught the bartender's eye, and his second glass was soon empty and next to the first._

_There was no way that just happened, he thought, groaning as he buried his face in his hands. They'd been dating for over two years; there's no way that she dumped him—that she ended their_ engagement _—after a conversation that didn't even last five minutes._

_Another shot._

_She was reasonable. That's why he liked her; she'd been so reasonable, unlike his first boyfriend. She was mature and understood that he had his own life outside of what they had together. She teased him and was always, unwaveringly there for him, no matter what._

_Another shot._

_Or, Iwaizumi thought numbly, maybe she had a point. Maybe it wasn't that she was expecting too much of him, it was that he wasn't putting in as much effort as he should have. Missing a date for a work emergency, that was reasonable; she'd never gotten mad when he explained someone had gotten hurt and so he couldn't make their dinner. She'd gotten mad when he said he decided to go in despite not being scheduled, out of precaution. She'd gotten mad when practices ran long and he told her with a simple text, returning to his apartment to see a homemade meal put away into Tupperware, handwritten notes with reheating instructions._

_Maybe she had a point._

_Maybe he was a bad boyfriend._

_Maybe it was over._

_Iwaizumi took a deep breath, but the oxygen just felt like it made the alcohol more potent. He thought he'd asked for a water next, but when the bartender set a fifth shot in front of him, he didn't complain and soon set down yet another empty glass. The room was spinning, even when he had his eyes closed, forehead resting against his clasped hands._

_When he heard the stool two down from him move, he opened his eyes, but didn't move from his position. He didn't even have to look over; what he saw from the corner of his eye was more than enough and he swore under his breath and fixed his gaze on the empty shot glasses in front of him because suddenly, alcohol wasn't the only cause for his dizziness and pounding heart._

_Iwaizumi was an athletic trainer, so he had a solid foundation in the sciences. On top of that, he had always been a realist, and so he didn't believe in very much that he couldn't rationalize or prove. He kept himself grounded and refused to be swept away by the whirlwind of romantic notions, finding them pointless and exaggerated, despite having spent two thirds of his life by the side of someone just like that._

_However, even if he couldn't explain why or rationalize it, Iwaizumi did believe in a sixth sense because every time one specific person was around him, Iwaizumi could tell, even before he heard or saw him. And even almost an entire decade, that still held true._

_Iwaizumi had long ago lost track of time and was no longer checking his phone. The five empty shots in front of him had become eight by the time the bartender informed him that it was last call and he shook his head numbly when asked if he wanted one more. "Just close it out," he mumbled, pulling out his card. He glanced over to his left and took a moment, eying the empty shot glasses in front of Oikawa, unable to help but steal a look at him. His bangs obscured his eyes, but he was swaying slightly, seeming to catch himself every now and then. "…His tab too," he said, handing the bartender his credit card._

_One more disappointing check of his phone later, the bartender returned his card and as he slipped it back into his wallet, he could see him say something to Oikawa. Iwaizumi stood gingerly; among his eight shot glasses, there were only two glasses of actual water, and one of them hadn't been even finished. He shook his head when the bartender asked if he wanted him to call a cab for the two of them. He didn't correct him that they weren't together._

_Oikawa didn't either._

_Iwaizumi had to pass by Oikawa to leave; that was his excuse. Pocketing his phone, Iwaizumi shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly started walking, first few steps experimental; he lingered by Oikawa and wondered if he should say anything._

_It took a moment, but Oikawa wordlessly stood up and the first time he looked at him was when they were back at his apartment and he was kissing him._

"Look, I'm hungover—can we talk later?"

He hung up his phone and let his head fall back, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes.

Hanamaki was right; he didn't normally do one-night stands. His concern stemmed from the last, and only, time that Iwaizumi had had one, and while he appreciated the concern, he absolutely did not want to talk about it.

Iwaizumi dragged himself to the counter to find an aspirin to take and checked his email as he waited for it to kick in, prayed that he wouldn't be called in for an emergency in the next few hours. He was doing his best to push last night out of his memory, and yet whenever he opened his phone to find Himari's number to call, he kept going to where Oikawa's contact information would have been, if he hadn't deleted his number a few months into college.

Why was he even in Tokyo? They hadn't kept in touch, but Matsukawa mentioned that Oikawa dropped out of university and nobody knew where he went. Iwaizumi had snapped that he didn't give a shit what Oikawa did anymore, but when he'd heard through the grapevine that he'd just taken a year off and re-enrolled in a different university, he made sure he was alone in the chemistry building hallway before sinking down against the wall and burying his face in his arms, the sigh he'd given in relief taking both air and his ability to stand.

After graduating from university, Iwaizumi had gotten licensed as an athletic trainer; this had been his intention even before starting university, knowing that his height would make it impossible for him to play at the professional level. He had intended on playing for a few years though, but wound up quitting soon after the first game in his first year and devoted himself fully to his studies.

And it paid off; he'd started about half a year ago as the athletic trainer of the national volleyball team, where he'd been met with some familiar faces. While it would never be the same as the close-knit volleyball family at Seijoh, it brought Iwaizumi a similar feeling of comfort, to be surrounded by people just as passionate or even more so about volleyball. Even though neither Hanamaki or Matsukawa pursued volleyball after high school, Iwaizumi would invite them when the team decided to play casually, and that was as close as he would ever be able to get to his high school memories.

For a while, Iwaizumi was happy. He had two of his closest friends, he had his dream job, and he had a fiancée. He'd truly thought they were everything he'd needed, and he had figured his life out already by age twenty-seven.

Iwaizumi didn't talk about Oikawa, and most people were fairly cognizant of that and didn't need him to explicitly state it. If they did keep trying, Iwaizumi would shortly, but politely, tell them that he no longer kept in touch with Oikawa, which usually elicited surprise of some sort and then dropping the topic. But one day, Hinata had caught Iwaizumi in a bad mood; looking back on it, he probably brought him up because _he_ somehow wound up being Oikawa's friend, and so thought that he and Iwaizumi might be fighting. Hinata's intentions had to be pure, but Iwaizumi snapped at him that he didn't keep in touch with Oikawa and didn't care about him.

The team never brought up Oikawa again after that.

Bumping into Oikawa on the same night his fiancée dumped him had to be some kind of karmic retribution, because those chances should have been _astronomically_ slim. Of all the people in Tokyo to bump into. Of all the cities for Oikawa to be in. Of all the bars for Iwaizumi to be in.

Of all the bars for Iwaizumi _and_ Oikawa to be in.

The fact that Oikawa didn't even say anything was infuriating; _he_ was the one to sit by Iwaizumi (leaving a seat between them, as if that was going to shroud his identity)—why didn't _he_ leave? He made the choice to come over and take a seat, and then he _stayed_ there the entire night, without saying a single word. When did he come in? Why didn't he just leave? Why didn't he say anything? Why was _he_ drinking?

Iwaizumi's feelings towards Oikawa weren't one-sided; he was very certain that how he felt was mutual.

When the hangover had become minimal, Iwaizumi had forced himself to stand up and open his refrigerator to take out ingredients he had bought earlier in the week. He'd gone almost four years where Oikawa was just a bit of white noise in the background; Iwaizumi would admit that he could never entirely erase Oikawa from his mind, not when he'd been such a big part of his life and shaped him into who he was today and even affected his career choice, but he'd done so well in compartmentalizing Oikawa into something manageable. He'd be white noise, but he could _almost_ ignore him.

His heartbreak had lasted for years; it had taken a long time for that precise shade of blue to turn into red. He had tried his hardest to move on before he was ready, but it never worked. For years, Iwaizumi's heart been so absolutely shattered and hardened that it seemed as though the galaxy of pain Oikawa left was the only sadness he could feel. He'd heard over and over that it would take time, and he'd always hated; that was a stupid, cop-out answer, he'd thought.

Then one day he woke up and even though it still hurt like hell, it hurt just a little bit less.

"…Fuck him."

Iwaizumi was no longer at risk of sending his fist flying into the nearest solid surface, but he was still scowling when he went back to slicing carrots, intending on making curry for the week. Once he was finished with them, he moved onto the other vegetables, dicing them and tossing them into the pot filled with store bought broth.

While it was cooking, he decided to answer his texts. He'd be back at work tomorrow anyway, and the last thing he wanted was for them to try and talk to him in person about it. He'd already texted Yachi to ask about his things; he and Himari hadn't moved in together to a single apartment, but treated each other's apartments as their homes. They were both locked in leases for a while and Iwaizumi's proposal hadn't been planned out very far in advance; Iwaizumi spent more time at Himari's place than his own, and while the items he had there weren't important, he thought it would be the polite thing to do to offer to pick them up and save her the hassle of throwing them out.

He had set his phone down to check on the pot, but when he heard his phone chime, Iwaizumi wiped his hands on a nearby rag. He winced when he'd moved his left hand too much; he'd almost forgotten about the cuts and scrapes. Waiting until the pain dulled, he made a mental note to remember to avoid using it and picked up his phone to check who had texted him.

**From: Yachi**

_yes, i can ask her in a few days! but, iwaizumi-san… you're really just giving up that easily?_

Iwaizumi frowned. He'd spent all night waiting for Himari to text him, but he'd also spent the time re-evaluating his part in the break-up. He didn't know how to make her happy; maybe they just had different expectations of a relationship, and he wasn't sure if it would be possible to reconcile that.

**To: Yachi**

_after cooling down and thinking about it, i realized she's right. i wasn't putting in as much effort to the relationship as she was._

Her reply came quickly; was Himari with her?

**From: Yachi**

_but that's something that can be changed, right?_

Iwaizumi was still as he stared at Yachi's text. She was right, of course; Himari hadn't dumped him because of something that wasn't fixable. If it was just that she didn't feel like he was invested in the relationship, then he could change that. He could be sterner with the hours he put in, he could make more of an effort to prioritize her, he could do more spontaneous, romantic gestures. Relationships were compromise, Iwaizumi knew.

But if it was so easy to fix, then why hadn't he thought of it until now, when she'd brought it up over and over again?

Iwaizumi chewed on the inside of his lips for a few moments, ultimately heaving another sigh and texting back, feeling his heart ache.

**To: Yachi**

_just let me know when i can go over and pick up my stuff._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> folklore has straight up taken over my life, but it's also given me proper inspiration for a break up and make up fic i've been aching to write for literal years, so thank you taylor
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos and comments are immensely appreciated ♡


	2. quietly on the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because fate loved a good joke and oikawa was its favorite punchline.

Oikawa managed to ignore the explosion of pain in his knee until he got home.

His hands were shaking so badly that it was nearly impossible for him to unlock his door; even using his left hand to try and steady his right, it took Oikawa several attempts until he was able to get the key in and turn it. As soon as he heard the click, his left hand dropped to the doorknob, jerking it to the right and shoving the door open with such force that he tumbled in. He barely registered the pain of his shoulder hitting the ground; the pain in his knee was becoming unbearable and he was gasping on the ground, clutching it tightly and swearing under his breath.

He was wincing as he shakily stood as best as he could and limped into his kitchen; his entire right leg was shaking with pain as he rummaged desperately through his drawers for the medicine bottle. Jolting when he heard a knock at his door, Oikawa's breathing was still labored, hair stuck to his face in cold sweat when he heard a neighbor inquire if he was all right.

"I-I'm fine, thank you. I just fell."

Waiting until he heard the footsteps recede, he swore again; he'd finally found the bottle and shook out a single pill. He held it carefully between his teeth as he grabbed a bottle of water, hands still shaking as he took it. Once he felt the pill start making its way down his throat, he mustered the little energy he had left to reach into the freezer to grab an ice pack; it was at this point that his good knee finally gave out as well, Oikawa's back hit his refrigerator, and he slid down until he was sitting on the floor.

Trembling hands brought the ice pack and pressed it to his right knee; Oikawa's heart was still racing and his breathing was only a tiny bit less labored. His head was bowed as he couldn't stop himself from thinking about waking up in Iwaizumi's bed; clenching his free hand into a fist, it shot out and collided solidly with the floor. "Damnit…" he muttered.

"Damnit, damnit, _damnit_ …!" he growled, fist hitting the ground with every word until his knuckles were buzzing with pain.

He hadn't told anybody he was moving back to Tokyo; he'd left with no word and intended on returning the same way. Oikawa had deleted all his social media and, while it wasn't his proudest moment, he'd made a fake one to check on some of his old friends, like Matsukawa and Hanamaki. He had been unable to help himself from performing a deep dive of sorts on their public pages after confirming they were also still in Tokyo, but as soon as he saw pictures of Iwaizumi, he immediately stopped and deleted the apps.

The last time he'd spoken to Iwaizumi was before they graduated high school, and the last time they'd seen each other in person was just a few months into their first year of college, and Oikawa had no intentions of doing either of those again. The feeling of losing the person he'd thought of as his other half was horrendously unbearable; Oikawa didn't remember much of the summer between high school and graduation and once college started, volleyball became absolutely everything to him.

He hadn't started out cutting off Hanamaki and Matsukawa; their schools were close enough that visiting each other often wasn't too much of a time strain on either of them. Oikawa had met up with Hanamaki and Matsukawa a few times on his campus—it was unspoken that he wanted to avoid their campus in case they'd see Iwaizumi—but over time, he started to agree to plans less often and made up excuses to ones he did make, eventually no longer seeing them either. It was part of life, he told himself; this was what college was about:

Meeting new people.

Exploring who he was as an independent person.

Moving on with his life.

Things changed and even though the four of them had been so close they were virtually inseparable in high school, life changed and Oikawa adapted.

With no friends and no other extracurriculars, volleyball was his entire life. He committed himself entirely to the sport and became the first first-year to be on the starting line-up; his teammates would later tell him that they had been put off by his attitude at try-outs, but would eventually see why he acted so confidently.

Because he was _that good._

If Oikawa wasn't in class or studying, he was in the gym practicing. He'd been a good student in high school and while his grades in college didn't suffer, he certainly didn't put in the same time to academics; he studied just enough to maintain his personal standards. It was a stark contrast to high school; Oikawa's work ethic had earned him top marks in both volleyball and academics and neither suffered because of the other.

However, his priorities had shifted now. He still cared about his academics, but the hours that it would take to bump a 90 to a 100 were better spent in the gym, he thought. Volleyball was the only activity that pushed him hard enough to distract him from thinking about Iwaizumi; when his heart and lungs were on the verge of exploding and his legs were shaking so badly that he could barely stand, then and only then could he have a few blissful seconds of utter peace and quiet.

He spent more time in the gym than any other place on campus, except his dorm room (maybe even more than his dorm room on some days.) Without Iwaizumi badgering him to go home and stop, it was easy for Oikawa to practice up until he teased the very edge of his physical limits. He'd stay there until the janitor would kick him out and never before had he been able to push himself so close to his breaking point. Maybe all this time Iwaizumi had been a hindrance; maybe it was a blessing for him to be out of his life.

Maybe everything happened for a reason.

The first time his knee started bothering him, Oikawa had pushed through it. He'd find home remedies to temporarily alleviate the pain so that he could keep practicing and make it through games. Oikawa knew that if he went to a doctor, they would have him stop playing and focus on recovering, and there was too much momentum for him to even consider that. Volleyball was the only thing that made him happy and the only thing that could distract him from the harrowed emptiness lodged permanently in his chest; he couldn't just _stop_. He wouldn't give anyone a single reason to take this away from him.

It happened one day when the team was running drills, practicing before a game the next day. Oikawa had landed awkwardly from a jump and in the split second before pain exploded and ricocheted through his leg, he could feel his stomach drop. Instantaneously with the popping sensation in his knee came pain so agonizingly bad that, had he not felt it, Oikawa wouldn't ever have been able to fathom it. His entire body felt like it was on fire, with the source being his right knee; Oikawa clutched it desperately even as he was crying out in pain, there was a small part of his brain telling him that he'd be okay, that this was his first serious injury—as soon as he recovered, he'd just practice extra to make up for the lost time; he couldn't let his team down again.

He was fairly sure he never lost consciousness, but the first proper memory he could recall was waking up after surgery and the doctor coming in to see him. He'd shaken his head and told him that it was best for him to remain laying down to rest. Oikawa was good at reading people, and to this day, he still didn't know how he hadn't seen it as soon as the doctor stepped in. Denial was a powerful trick of the mind; Oikawa had searched between the _"most likely"_ and _"probable"_ and _"highly unlikely"_ , focusing instead on the tiny sliver of hope that clung onto a technicality.

When the doctor finally explicitly told him that he couldn't play, Oikawa thought he was joking.

He'd laughed, even. _"I did the physical therapy,"_ he said. _"I did it for months. My knee almost feels fine again, what are—"_

 _"You won't be able to play, Oikawa-san,"_ the doctor interrupted gently. _"At least, not at the level you were playing at."_

Silence, then another short laugh, but more strained and less genial.

_"…You're kidding, right? This was the first time—"_

_"It was a severe tear. Have you been in pain for a while leading up to the incident?"_

Oikawa dropped out of college.

He only told his mother and sister to let them know that he was fine, and he needed some time to himself. They'd initially resisted until Oikawa had finally told them about his knee—just one sentence, _I tore my ACL and can't play volleyball_ —and only then did they relent. He hadn't had a plan when he dropped out and cleared out his dorm, selling what he could and throwing out the rest. He packed a backpack and left Tokyo, never once looking back, never once thinking twice about what he was doing. He'd arrived in Tokyo with the determination to flourish more than he ever had with his one true passion in life, and left wordlessly less than half a year later with what felt like nothing left.

Everything was a haze. Oikawa barely remembered anything from his first two months on the road. How did he decide where to go? Did he meet anyone? Try as he might, he still wasn't able to recall those memories.

The first clear thought he remembered from that time happened when he was sitting at a small family-owned restaurant waiting for his ramen; despite air heavy with heat and aroma, his conscience cleared and he clearly remembered thinking:

_This is Iwaizumi's fault._

It was entirely his fault. _He_ was why Oikawa was practicing so hard. He'd wanted to make sure that if and when their schools played, that not only would Oikawa be in the starting lineup, he'd _win_ against them, whether or not Iwaizumi ever stepped on court. Because of Iwaizumi, he'd pushed himself too hard and ignored the warning signs; because of Iwaizumi, he'd arrived at college with absolutely nothing except a broken heart and his passion. Soon, _if I'd gone to the doctor sooner_ was replaced by _it's all Iwaizumi's fault_.

In that year off, he traveled as much as he could. He had some money from some part-time jobs he'd had before quitting for volleyball and while he never asked and she never confirmed it, his sister had been sending money to his bank account. He'd sent back whatever he didn't need and eventually found a job teaching middle schoolers how to play at a youth center. It was refreshing to play volleyball at a level that wasn't so competitive; Oikawa had once again, almost forgotten that volleyball was meant to be fun. He'd spent so much time focusing on power, spin, and accuracy that it was only when he saw little kids shrieking and laughing that he remembered what had made him love this sport so much to begin with.

His love was genuine and pure, but somewhere along the way, it was once again no longer about being fun. It was a way to be the best and assert his success over Iwaizumi.

He eventually re-enrolled in another university outside of Tokyo to finish his degree and went into physiotherapy, because if he couldn't play again, then he'd try to keep other athletes from going through what he did. He told his sister first when he'd called to let her know that he wouldn't need her to keep sending money; she had laughed, and noted that that as a surprisingly mature and positive thought process. _"No offense, but I really didn't think you'd be that selfless. I thought you'd be more bitter."_

He had laughed, sounding tinny even to himself. _"Seeing those kids play helped me remember that in the end, volleyball is about having fun."_

_"Tooru, you're pretty good at lying, but I'm your sister."_

Oikawa took as many classes as he could petition for in order to make up for the year he'd taken off and he graduated just one semester later. He then completed his apprenticeship at the university's medical school and was eventually matched to Tokyo Hospital as a resident. Oikawa's goals was to help athletes specifically, and all of the nation's top athletes would go to the largest, most cutting-edge hospital in Japan, and so not working there had never been an option.

In his year off, his knee had bothered him only a few times, and Oikawa soon learned that, like with his initial injury, the key was to not overexert himself. After the first two months, Oikawa had taken life slower than he ever had. He traveled from city to city and finally settled in a cozy small town by the beach, where he'd go to casually play with some other students around his age, then head to the youth center to teach kids. He rented a small room from a nice old lady and in return for his discounted rent, he helped her with groceries and general house maintenance. He'd gone from constantly being in some spotlight to disappearing to where nobody knew who he was and what he'd lost. It had been a bit of a shock at first; Oikawa couldn't remember the last time he'd played volleyball with people his own age in a non-competitive manner, and the other players nearly banned him because he just would not chill with his serves.

It took him a while, but he grew accustomed to it. He spent his days taking deep breaths of sea-salt laced air and his nights taking leisurely walks along the beach.

His days were slow and his heart started to feel full again.

However, he'd known all along that this was just a temporary reprieve, and saying goodbye to the quaint town in favor of Tokyo wasn't too hard.

He had taken a week off in order to move apartments, and after a day of unpacking, Oikawa found himself at a bar he used to frequent when he was still a student in Tokyo. Moving kept him busy enough, especially when he had to take frequent breaks because of his knee. The only non-family person he'd told about his return was Kuroo Tetsurou, who Oikawa had the unfortunate pleasure of being acquainted with from before he left. Kuroo had mentioned he worked for the Japan Volleyball Association, and so Oikawa knew there was a chance that if he told him, he would tell some of his former rivals because of everyone he played, a good number would've ended up partaking in volleyball in some way.

However, he had a feeling that Kuroo wouldn't be one to gossip about his return; he was sly, he was annoying, he was a nuisance, but Kuroo Tetsurou also seemed trustworthy.

He had bumped into him once when they were both students; they were both at a café studying for an exam, and Kuroo had asked if he could sit. Oikawa had nodded and despite the entire afternoon being spent in silence aside from _can you watch this while I use the bathroom?_ they'd exchanged numbers before they left, promising to call each other if they needed a study buddy.

Oikawa had never texted him for the prescribed reason, instead asking if he could help with unpacking. He'd added that he could pay in beer, and Kuroo showed up in about an hour.

_"Don't you work?"_

_"Don't_ you _work?"_

He didn't tell Kuroo, but Oikawa was fairly good at telling when people's gazes lingered on his knee brace. He was a former player as well and even non-athletes generally knew about ACL tears. He was grateful Kuroo didn't try to ask him about it and for that, he silently accepted the offered ice pack when there was a twinge of pain so strong he couldn't play it off. Kuroo had said that only one of them needed to bring the boxes up; the other should stay in the apartment to start unpacking and flattening boxes to make room for the rest, and Oikawa had nodded wordlessly.

_"It was a shock when you disappeared," Kuroo noted during one of their breaks, opening a can of beer. "You probably expected that, though."_

_Oikawa smirked. He winced as he shifted to sit more comfortably, adjusting the ice pack on his knee. "I have to say, I didn't think word would spread that quickly and that far, though."_

_"Are you kidding? One of Japan's most promising national-level potentials—as a first year? It spread like wildfire. I'm just impressed you stayed off the grid for a year. Even Kenma talked about it and he doesn't even talk that much to begin with."_

_Oikawa didn't say anything at first. It had been a while since he'd talked to someone who was well versed in volleyball; being reminded that, at one point, he'd had a legitimate chance to play nationally made his chest hurt more than his knee and for a moment, he thought the sip of beer he'd just taken was going to come back up. But when he heard Kuroo ask if everything was okay, he smiled and nodded. "When I put my mind to something," he said instead, "I typically achieve it. You should know that, if only for future reference."_

_Kuroo gave a half smile. Oikawa didn't know him well; he certainly knew of him, the same way Kuroo knew of Oikawa. However, Oikawa didn't have to know him well to know that Kuroo was perceptive; he could tell in the way he looked at him, in his lengthy silences, and in the way he worded things._

_One day was all it took for them to become friends; they both had terrible personalities and complemented the other. Kuroo had said to let him know when he needed help again; just because he didn't play didn't mean that he wouldn't need his knee, and Oikawa had laughed. Kuroo had refrained from bringing it up all day and the fact that he did so without it being in a pitying manner only made Oikawa like him more._

_"Oh, we're close enough that you can make jokes about my knee now?"_

_"What, you're not used to the jokes already from Iwaizumi?"_

_Oikawa's breath caught; he was frozen for a moment too long and couldn't brush it off. Removing the ice pack from his knee and resting it on the coffee table, Oikawa faltered again, palms pressed to the couch before he pushed himself up._

_"…Iwaizumi and I don't keep in touch."_

He'd been in the bar when Iwaizumi came in. The door had flown open when Oikawa was nursing his second whiskey sour and Iwaizumi walked by him. Oikawa could only catch the profile of his face for a split second but even from the back, he'd recognize him anymore. His hair was slightly longer and his shoulders were broader, but he was undeniably Iwaizumi Hajime.

Oikawa didn't even know Iwaizumi would know this bar. There were hundreds in Tokyo; there were at least five closer to Iwaizumi's campus, so why this one? Why did he like this one and why was here _tonight_? Of all the nights in the year, Iwaizumi had to pick the one night at the one bar that Oikawa was at, because fate loved a good joke and Oikawa was its favorite punchline. He'd been immobilized ever since he realized it was him; his body was frozen but his eyes followed him, watched as he took a seat at the bar and ordered his first drink.

His first thought was to leave.

Tokyo was a huge city; with an area of almost 2,200 square kilometers and a population of 9.3 million people, Oikawa could easily go the rest of his life without running into Iwaizumi. He'd refused to let himself find out what Iwaizumi was doing right now, but the fact that he hadn't seen or heard his name in any academic sense led Oikawa to feel it was safe to assume he hadn't gone into physiotherapy, and he wouldn't see him in the hospital. The only overlap he could imagine would be if Iwaizumi played volleyball professionally; that was the only possible way that their paths would cross, but Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi had never intended on playing professionally after college, and so he didn't linger on that hypothetical for too long.

Iwaizumi hadn't seemed to notice him when he came in. Oikawa caught only a glimpse, but what he did see was a steely expression, dark eyes and a furrowed brow, coupled with pursed lips.

He didn't know what, but something had happened and when he saw Iwaizumi down his first shot, that only confirmed his intuition.

Oikawa hated Iwaizumi.

He never thought he would; growing up, Iwaizumi almost exclusively called him some variation of his name with an insult and, in return, Oikawa would call him mean and grumpy. But that was best friends teasing each other; despite their antics and what they'd say, they had never held any kind of negative emotion towards each other.

But he hated Iwaizumi now; Oikawa absolutely _loathed_ Iwaizumi.

 _I should leave_ , he'd thought. _I should finish this drink, pay my tab, and leave._ There were enough people in the bar that he would be able to slip out without Iwaizumi ever noticing. Waitresses were patrolling the bar, and Oikawa had been receiving excellent service all night; he wouldn't even have to go up to the bar to pay.

And so Oikawa finished his drink in one long gulp; when he raised his hand, his tongue was ready to ask _may I have the check?_ and yet what he heard was, "Another, please."

By the time he finished his third drink, there was enough alcohol in his system that he couldn't feel the dull ache in his knee from earlier that day. Cradling his glass in one hand and his chin in the other, Oikawa's half-lidded eyes watched Iwaizumi taking what looked to be double shots all night long. The Iwaizumi he knew hadn't been a drinker; the Iwaizumi he knew also was one of the most steadfast and predictable people to exist, and if Oikawa's understanding of him had been accurate, he doubted Iwaizumi would have gone from rarely drinking to knocking back five or more shots on a regular basis.

This meant that something had _definitely_ happened.

Oikawa finished his third drink slowly enough that it just prolonged his tipsy stupor instead of worsening it. The bar had mostly cleared out, which made it harder for Oikawa to not look at Iwaizumi, if he'd even been trying to stop. Iwaizumi's back was hunched, his arms were folded on the bar and Oikawa could tell he was clearly drunk by now, approaching blacking out. He'd spent the past couple of hours just watching him; the burn of alcohol traveling down his chest and numbness of being tipsy helped to hold at bay the rise of emotion he felt swelling inside of him. There were a few times where Iwaizumi would shift or turn his head to get the bartender's attention and every time Oikawa saw his face, he almost hurled his glass at a wall.

But now it was time to leave, he thought, nothing productive was happening from staying here, and he should get a good night's rest to bay tomorrow's hangover. Standing unsteadily and shaking his head when a waitress asked if he'd like his check, Oikawa made his way over to the bar and out of every seat, chose the stool just one down from Iwaizumi.

The bartender asked what he wanted. _Pay my tab,_ he was supposed to say, but next thing he knew, a shot was set in front of him.

Oikawa spent a third of his life despising the person he'd loved for the rest of it, and yet he would admit that he'd never be able to forget Iwaizumi. He had tried so hard to erase him from his mind, but even when he tried to sink himself into other people, he'd be comparing them to Iwaizumi or think about his memories with him instead, which only served to bring him to the forefront of his mind. Volleyball was his only escape, and now that that was gone, he had to accept that Iwaizumi would always permeate his memory.

Iwaizumi defined his childhood and entire life up to college; he couldn't remember middle school or high school without thinking of him, just as he couldn't remember bug catching without him. The closest he could do was refuse to talk to anyone about him because maybe that way he would just be a haunted memory instead of a recurring nightmare.

Tipping the glass and watching the amber liquid come precariously close to spilling over, Oikawa wondered if Iwaizumi knew it was him. Iwaizumi hadn't looked over, but he'd had a weird sixth sense when it came to Oikawa; it wasn't impervious to the dulling effect of copious amounts of alcohol, but it seemed that as long as Iwaizumi was sober in any sort of capacity, he'd figure out Oikawa was around him. In high school, Oikawa would just walk into a room, a loud and crowded room, and Iwaizumi would look up and wave him over. He never understood how he did it; Iwaizumi also never had a good answer.

He took the shot and asked for another.

Oikawa had lost track of time; he wasn't consciously keeping up with Iwaizumi's shots, but suddenly there were four glasses in front of him. He was sitting but the room kept spinning around him; when the bartender stopped in front of him, he was about to ask for his check when he informed him that Iwaizumi had paid his tab.

Oikawa's chest seized.

_He knew._

And when Iwaizumi stood and paused behind him, it took Oikawa only a moment to stand and follow him.

What was he doing? He hated him, he didn't want anything to do with him, and yet he followed him, alcohol keeping him warm despite the chilly night. He couldn't feel anything; his face was numb, the pain in his knee was gone, his head was spinning and yet his eyes were able to focus squarely on Iwaizumi's back, easily able to keep up with him. They said nothing and Oikawa thought about all the times he'd followed Iwaizumi, proclaiming he just didn't feel like figuring out directions. Iwaizumi had scoffed, but he'd never led them astray.

His heart had been racing in his chest and he felt nauseous. What was he doing? What was he doing? What was he _doing_?

Oikawa had every opportunity to break off; Iwaizumi never once glanced behind him, and so it would've been easy for him to just make an opposite turn or duck into a convenience store and call a cab home. And yet, his feet followed Iwaizumi's path, matched him step by step until the ground beneath his shoes turned from pavement to tile to carpet to hardwood and then even before the door was closed and locked, Iwaizumi's mouth was on his.

He hated Iwaizumi, but as soon as their lips met, Oikawa absolutely melted.

Nine years had passed; nine calamitous, tumultuous years where everything Oikawa had known was pulled out from under his feet and he'd had to recalibrate everything. It had seemed absolutely insurmountable, but he'd managed to survive and was just beginning to find his footing again.

But now he was kissing Iwaizumi and it felt so comfortable that he was instantly brought back to the familiarity of being with him. Despite almost a decade apart and a world of hurt that separated them, Oikawa's knees threatened to buckle beneath him as he kissed him back, eyes fluttering closed and letting his head fall back as he felt Iwaizumi leave hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, unable to help his moan.

Shoving Iwaizumi against the wall, Oikawa kissed him with the intention of leaving him not just breathless but devoid of all air possible; he hated him, he thought, he absolutely, viciously hated this person he'd once loved more than stars in the universe, hated him _so much_ —

-but he also couldn't pull away and leave. He could only kiss him wherever he could, scratch at his toned body beneath his shirt, hope to leave as many marks as he could because while Oikawa wanted the night to end with no evidence on him, he wanted Iwaizumi to wake up and know _exactly_ what had happened. Their first verbal exchange had been when he'd asked if he was seeing someone, on his knees and undoing his belt.

Iwaizumi didn't answer, but Oikawa didn't let that falter him.

Because of course, he wasn't. Even in his beyond inebriated state, Oikawa had known that. The idea of ruining Iwaizumi's life the way Iwaizumi had his presented itself as a perfect opportunity to Oikawa, but no matter how much his feelings towards Iwaizumi had changed, Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi himself would never change, at least not in such a drastic way. He had always been so stable and unwavering; there was no way that the Iwaizumi Hajime Oikawa was so in love with would _ever_ be unfaithful. So when Iwaizumi asked him to not leave a hickey, Oikawa left one anyway, just as he'd done plenty of times in high school.

He woke up the next morning when Iwaizumi was searching for his phone. Oikawa's first sensation had been pain and a mouth so parched he thought that surely something had to have died in his mouth. Bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he winced and took a deep breath; his memories came flooding back quickly and he knew that it was Iwaizumi causing that ruckus even before he heard his voice.

Oikawa took a deep, silent breath and couldn't help but let his mind run wild; had Iwaizumi been dumped? Is that why he'd been drinking? Is that why he'd been checking his phone all night; he'd been hoping for his significant other to text him, tell him they changed their mind, they wanted to talk?

Did Oikawa end up ruining his relationship after all?

He didn't know if he was more surprised or relieved at feeling guilt at the idea. Pushing himself up slowly, he tried to stay as silent as possible, but when Iwaizumi also fell quiet, Oikawa didn't have to wonder if he knew.

He absolutely did.

He hadn't been that pissed off when he woke up; rather, knowing that _Iwaizumi_ was angry had him feeling victorious, but as soon as he heard Iwaizumi's voice, he felt fury overwhelm the threatening headache.

Oikawa stood and quickly gathered the clothes that were scattered around the bedroom and got dressed quickly, holding his belt and jacket in his hands as he briskly walked past Iwaizumi, left him with a sickly saccharine rendition of a once adored nickname and slammed the door shut with more force than necessary. He went to the elevator bank but when that took too long, he opted the stairs; slipping his jacket on and threading his belt through his pants, Oikawa broke into a full sprint as soon as he was outside of the building, wanting to get away from there as quickly as he could.

Oikawa was a physiotherapist. Not only that, he was _good_ , so he knew _exactly_ what he was doing to his already injured knee; there was a difference from straining it because he thought he could carry just one more box and straining it because he was full on sprinting. It wasn't as if Iwaizumi was going to follow him; there was absolutely no reason for him to be running, especially full-force like that, and yet he didn't care and didn't stop until the pain was overwhelming and he wondered if he'd actually torn it again.

Taking a deep breath, Oikawa lifted the ice pack and pressed his knee gently. It was still tender, but it didn't seem like he'd reinjured it; he'd just have to take it easy today. The nausea welling in his chest hadn't subsided but it had seemed to have tempered itself and Oikawa was able to take a slow breath. Grasping the counter, he hoisted himself up and limped over to his bedroom, stripping his clothes as soon as he could and tossing them into the laundry hamper.

Oikawa headed into the bathroom and turned the shower on; he waited until the water was hot enough, carefully stepping in to avoid putting pressure on his bad knee. He let the hot water wash over him and wished that he could wash off the memory of Iwaizumi's touches as easily as soap. His body had some bruises on it, matching nicely with the scratch marks he knew for sure he'd left on Iwaizumi.

Last night kept replaying in his mind, and Oikawa regretted not drinking more so that he would be able to block everything out. Instead, every time he closed his eyes, he could feel Iwaizumi's hot breath on him, his rough hands skimming over his skin and grabbing his limbs. Oikawa's body was still slightly sore, serving as another reminder that he absolutely did not want of last night.

Bowing his head, he felt water gather in his hair and weigh down the strands. Droplets traced the curve of his cheek and he watched them splatter to the ground. Of all the people to walk into the bar, it just had to be Iwaizumi. Of _all_ the people to know that he was back, he had to be one of the first. Of _all,_ it was _him_.

Turning the shower off once his skin was scrubbed red, he stepped out and dried off, pulling on clean clothes and a knee brace. He stopped by the laundry hamper to fish out his phone and checked it as he limped back over to the kitchen, eyes skimming his emails. They were mostly related to work or academic journals he was subscribed to.

When a banner appeared with a notification from Kuroo, Oikawa blinked in surprise. He hesitated for a moment and sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't in the mood to keep company, but anything would be better than being alone with his thoughts today.

Oikawa tapped Kuroo's contact info and dialed, bringing the phone up to his ear and limped over to the couch, wincing as he sat down and propped his leg up.

The line clicked. "Yo."

"Hey," Oikawa greeted. "Your text said to call."

"Oh, yeah. Just wanted to check in on you; your knee doing better?"

"Hm?"

"From moving a few days ago," Kuroo explained patiently. "Is it good yet?"

Oikawa stared at his knee, noticeably red and swollen still and cleared his throat. "…It'll be fine."

There was a lengthy pause and then he heard Kuroo sigh.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner, but now I'm thinking that Kenma and I will go over to your apartment, order in, and sit on you until your knee is better."

Oikawa laughed softly under his breath and pushed his wet bangs away from his eyes. "Tetsu-chan, you really think you two know better than a physiotherapist how to deal with an old ACL injury?"

"Oh, no," Kuroo answered easily. "I'm sure you know the best ways to deal with the injury, I'm just not sure you're actually listening to your own advice."

Oikawa and Kuroo had been friends for maybe one full day by this point, and he was already starting to irk Oikawa with his perception.

"My knee will be fine, Tetsu-chan," Oikawa said airily. "It's not like I do strenuous activity to tear it again, yeah?"

"Was that you I saw sprinting down the street this morning?"

"…Dinner sounds good, but maybe next time. I look forward to meeting Kenma-chan, just text me when!"

Hanging up before Kuroo had a chance to retort, Oikawa tossed his phone to the side. He laid down across the couch and threw an arm over his eyes, the other resting over his stomach as he sighed. Freshly showered and medication kicking in, Oikawa's heartbeat was slowly returning to normal.

It would be okay, he told himself. He saw Iwaizumi _one_ time; given how close they were and how much their social circles overlapped (based on the only people Oikawa knew in the city), that was inevitable. They'd gotten it over with, and so going forward, they would just avoid each other.

Now that Oikawa had confirmed his feelings were mutual, he was sure of it.

* * *

Three weeks passed without any more incidents.

Oikawa had managed to largely slip by under the radar; unless they had told other people and aside from Iwaizumi, only Kuroo and Kenma knew he was in Tokyo. He had yet to bump into anybody at the hospital who he used to know; Oikawa hadn't bothered to establish many friendships with classmates who weren't on the volleyball team and he wasn't exactly aching to see where his former teammates had ended up. It was possible Iwaizumi had told someone; Oikawa knew he still kept in touch with Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but if he was the same person from high school, Iwaizumi wouldn't have told them yet, because that would open up the conversation to them.

He finished moving in and setting up his apartment and focused solely on work; his entire social life was dependent on Kuroo at this point, but he didn't mind. His priority wasn't a popping social life; it was to focus on his career. If he wasn't at work or forced into a social outing with Kuroo, he was generally at his apartment, save the several trips he kept making to the store because, as was always the case with moving, he just _happened_ to forget the _very vital thing_ to him living comfortably.

His program was going well; the work was interesting, the research opportunities were vast, and the hours were predictable. Oikawa was settling into his new life and as he did so, he was once again able to put Iwaizumi into the furthest recesses of his mind, allowing his existence in his mind only as a sort of motivation for himself.

"Oikawa-san, we've got someone from the national team coming in. Their athletic trainer is with them too. They're waiting in room two."

Glancing up, he saw Mika smiling at him and he returned the smile; had Oikawa not already known she was dating someone, he definitely would have hit on her. She was sweet and cute, the typical type of girl Oikawa frequently flirted with. "Thank you, Mika-chan," he said cheerfully, taking the clipboard from her. "Tell Daisho-kun I say hello, yeah? Enjoy your date tonight!"

She blushed but nodded and disappeared for a moment before her slender fingers were curled around the doorframe again. "Ah, I almost forgot—today it's Sakusa-san, but in a few weeks, another member will start coming in. I believe his name was Miya Atsumu. He's still recovering from surgery."

Oikawa nodded. "Same injury?" he asked, glancing down the clipboard. "Rotator cuff tendinitis?"

"Torn ACL."

Oikawa froze but he didn't let it manifest in his expression; instead, he donned the same smile and thanked her again. He waited until Mika was out of ear shot to sigh and take a moment to collect himself, licking his lips. A torn ACL was common and it was inevitable that he would eventually have to treat one, but he hadn't thought it would be this soon and this quickly.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Taking one final deep breath, Oikawa headed out of the office and headed towards the physical therapy room, still skimming the sheet on the clipboard. Sakusa Kiyoomi, suspected rotator cuff tendinitis. It seemed simple enough; treatment would generally just be rest and some physical therapy, but given that this was a starter of the national team, Oikawa could see why the athletic trainer brought him to the hospital.

Treating a member of the national volleyball team also made Oikawa's gut twist, but he disregarded it.

"Good morning," he sang, still looking at the clipboard when he opened the door and walked in. "My name is Oikawa, and—"

"You have got to be fucking _kidding_ me."

Ice ran down his spine at the voice and Oikawa looked up sharply, eyes wide. He could only assume the individual sitting in the chair wearing a mask was Sakusa, but Oikawa's eyes could only focus on Iwaizumi. Their gazes remained locked for just another second before Oikawa looked away, under the guise of closing the door behind him; he bit his lip and lingered his too-tight hold on the doorknob, feeling his heart leaping erratically in his chest.

"Iwaizumi-san," Oikawa heard, "you know him? Is this the Oikawa-san that Shoyo-kun kept bringing up?"

_Shoyo?_

When Oikawa looked back over, it took everything for Oikawa to not return Iwaizumi's glare with a harsher one.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi grumbled, crossing his arms. "The one and fucking only, apparently."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you didn't have 'would read 'popping social life' in the narrative of a fanfic' on your 2020 bingo but here i am to serve
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments cherished as always ♡


	3. wasn't mine to lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if hearts could physically fall apart, his definitely was at that moment.

If it wasn't illegal and against the entire purpose of his job, Iwaizumi would've killed Sakusa.

Weeks passed. He'd been in contact with Yachi and when he asked if she thought it would be a good idea to text Himari, she immediately and resoundingly answered no, which, given the time he'd known Yachi, was uncharacteristic of her. As a result, Iwaizumi maintained his distance; he'd spend at least an hour each day, staring at Himari's number in his phone. He didn't even care about all the items he'd left at Himari's place because clothes and essentials were easily bought again, but the guilt he felt about how things had left off with Himari couldn't be remedied with anything from a convenience store.

Yachi was her best friend, but he had been her fiancée; should he listen to her in not reaching out? He owed her a proper apology at the very least, and when he said that to Yachi, she had hesitated.

_"…Are you apologizing for your own guilt, Iwaizumi-san, or for her peace of mind?"_

_"Isn't an apology meant for both of those things?"_

_"Yes, but I don't think that means they're something that always deserve to be heard just because they're ready to be said. Who do you think benefits more from the apology?"_

The one silver lining was there were no more ill-fated encounters with Oikawa. Hanamaki and Matsukawa also let the hickey fiasco fade into memory; if pressed, Iwaizumi knew that he would eventually crack and let slip the truth, so he was grateful for their cooperation on that front. He wasn't embarrassed to have been caught on a one-night stand, but telling them that he'd gotten nearly black-out drunk and fucked the ex he hadn't brought up in ten years multiple times in one night would bring an onslaught of questions he wasn't mentally prepared to process.

His friends were annoying, but they also knew when to stop pushing Iwaizumi.

He had been wary of seeing Oikawa accidentally. The fact that they had bumped into each other to begin with would suggest that he resided somewhere close by; Iwaizumi had started by trying to not linger outside, but promptly discarded that. His life was no longer about contorting himself for Oikawa's convenience. This was where Iwaizumi had lived for almost ten consecutive years; _Oikawa_ would have to be the one to make allowances if he didn't want to see him. He went to work, he worked out as per his normal schedule, he ran his errands, he met up with his friends, and he did everything he normally did, with absolutely no regard to Oikawa. That part of his life, he was certain, was over.

Once he was able to return to his normal routine, Iwaizumi could start to compartmentalize Oikawa again, push him into the furthest corner of his mind. He'd always have a place in Iwaizumi's life, but at least Iwaizumi could make sure he wasn't at the forefront of his mind.

Again: that part of his life, he was certain, was over.

Iwaizumi didn't like to impart blame onto anyone but himself, even when it came to Oikawa, but he couldn't help but do so in this case. Earlier in the week, Iwaizumi had noticed Sakusa's wincing during drills and practice matches. Once he'd noticed, he started thinking about how he'd seen signs earlier, but hadn't thought to link them together; by the time he called him over and out of a practice match, the wincing had become more significant. Iwaizumi's scowl deepened as Sakusa approached, but Sakusa wasn't entirely the one he was upset with.

_"Iwaizumi-san," Sakusa greeted once he was close enough._

_"Sakusa," Iwaizumi returned, eyes narrowed. He brought a hand up, palm grazing over the back of Sakusa's shoulder and he watched his expression, sighing when he grimaced at some light pressure. Iwaizumi removed his hand and shook his head. "This is how athletes lose their careers, dumbass. If something hurts, you don't push through to be able to keep playing."_

_"It's not that bad. Normally a painkiller—"_

_"Dumbass," Iwaizumi repeated."If you need a painkiller to play, then you shouldn't be playing. Is being able to play one more game really worth missing the rest?"_

Sakusa wasn't the only person on the team to be injured at the moment. Atsumu was at home, recovering from surgery to repair a torn ACL. He was due to start physical therapy soon and Iwaizumi had offered to go with him (and in general offered whatever he could do), but Atsumu's responses were either silence or stubborn refusal. Iwaizumi had asked the others on the team, thought maybe Atsumu was just upset with him, but he learned that he was hardly speaking to anyone, even Sakusa. The only person he'd converse with was Hinata, but as soon as he tried to ask about his knee, he'd change the conversation or stop talking entirely.

Iwaizumi tried to not blame him for something he couldn't imagine going through, but he was frustrated at feeling so useless. Iwaizumi would have expected a reaction like this from most people, but not Atsumu; he was so annoyingly present in every room he entered that his absence was startling, just like someone else Iwaizumi begrudgingly thought of when he first met him. He'd thought he would have to strangle Atsumu to the ground to keep him from overexerting himself in his physical therapy too soon, but instead he was wondering if he'd have to sling him over his shoulder and bring him to the hospital himself.

But then on the other hand, this reaction made sense because Iwaizumi also knew one other person who not only loved volleyball more than life itself, but would also shut down when faced with an emotional challenge.

Sakusa had protested at first about going to the hospital, but Iwaizumi glared at him until he agreed. _"It's been going on for too long, and I'm not taking any risks. Maybe if you'd come to me sooner then we could avoid a hospital."_

Iwaizumi also blamed himself for not seeing it sooner, and dragging him to the hospital was a safety precaution to compensate for what he considered his lack of oversight. Aside from the injury having bothered him for weeks and for the pain being closer to moderate than mild, they had the time right now, with no important games approaching quickly.

But now that he knew that the physiotherapist was Oikawa, he was thinking that he should've just given Sakusa an ice pack and sent him home. It probably wasn't that bad, anyway.

Iwaizumi's stomach had dropped as soon as Oikawa stepped into the room, looking at his stupid clipboard—the asshole wasn't even _looking_ at them when he walked in. Of all people, Iwaizumi was thinking, it had to be _him_? Of all the bars for the universe to send the two of them to, it chose the same one. And now of all the hospitals for the universe to send Oikawa to and of all the physiotherapists for the universe to send to Iwaizumi, it just had to be this hospital and Oikawa.

He would admit that over the years, he had wondered what Oikawa was doing. He'd been so stern with everyone about refusing to talk to Oikawa, but Iwaizumi's brain didn't listen to itself; try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about someone the universe sent to him to love before they were even born. When Iwaizumi had accepted his position with the national team before the final lineup had been announced, he had been concerned about Oikawa being one of the members.

Because even if Iwaizumi hated Oikawa almost as much as he'd once loved him, he'd always thought that if anyone from their generation would play at a national level, it would be Oikawa.

But he wasn't there. Iwaizumi hated to admit it, but he'd done a quick search after the lineup was announced and _Oikawa Tooru_ wasn't on the list; was he training overseas? Playing for another team? There was no way that Oikawa Tooru would've given up volleyball unless he was forced to, he thought. It didn't take someone with Iwaizumi's breadth of knowledge; anybody who had ever seen Oikawa play could see the passion and love he had for the sport.

If he wasn't playing anymore, it was because something literally kept him from doing so.

Iwaizumi received his answer when he watched Oikawa take a step back, most likely out of surprise, and immediately wince, dropping his clipboard and swearing loudly. Iwaizumi moved to help as a reflex, but Oikawa's sharp 'don't' stilled him. Sakusa had been sitting; he'd tensed but relaxed and it took Iwaizumi a moment longer to step back to where he originally was.

Iwaizumi had held onto his anger towards Oikawa for all these years, but as soon as he saw pain fly across his face, guilt and concern manifested in his chest because the way the waves always kissed the beaches, Iwaizumi could never become entirely detached from someone who he'd thought was his other half. He watched Oikawa's fingers curl, palm against the wall, as he took a moment to collect himself. He used his other hand to pick up his clipboard and straightened slowly, not looking at Iwaizumi and gingerly pressing his foot to the ground with a slow exhale.

Iwaizumi was finding it hard to take any breath that filled more than a fifth of his lung capacity. "ACL?" he managed to ask quietly and Oikawa nodded curtly.

His body felt cold but his cheeks warm; Iwaizumi averted his gaze as Oikawa approached and crossed his arms over the chest, leaning against the wall next to Sakusa. He shook his head when he saw Sakusa turn to him in his peripheral vision and scowled, looking away again when Oikawa started speaking.

"Sorry about that, Sakusa-san. I hope you'll let me make a better second impression on you."

Sakusa shook his head and adjusted his mask.

"I'm not sure if the nurse told you, but my name is Oikawa," he continued and the way he sounded so unbothered and professional had Iwaizumi's nails digging into his arms. "I'll be working with you. Based on the intake form, your shoulder is bothering you?"

Sakusa nodded. "It's likely nothing, but Iwaizumi-san had me come in as a precaution."

At the mention of his name, Iwaizumi looked over, admitted that he felt slightly smug to see the way Oikawa's grip tightened on his pen when he had to look at him. "And your relationship to Sakusa-san?"

He asked it in the same way he'd congratulate teams who'd beaten them in high school.

"Athletic trainer," Iwaizumi answered shortly. Oikawa's expression didn't change, but his hand froze for a moment and he nodded.

"So as the athletic trainer of the national team," he said slowly, "you had him come in because his shoulder was a little tender?"

"I had him come in," Iwaizumi snapped back immediately, "because even an injury that isn't too bad at first can and will ruin someone's career. You'd know, yeah?"

Iwaizumi had only his knowledge of Oikawa as a basis for his veiled accusation, but when Oikawa's practiced smile dropped momentarily and Iwaizumi could see his eyes narrow, he knew he was right. His victory didn't leave him feeling smug; all the confirmation did was solidify the discomfort brewing in his chest.

How did he not hear about this? Did Matsukawa and Hanamaki know, just didn't tell him because Iwaizumi refused to even listen to mentions of Oikawa? Because Seijoh had never made it to nationals, Oikawa wasn't nationally renowned, but he was good enough to at least cause a bit of a buzz in college. Was it because Iwaizumi quit, and so wasn't privy to the volleyball grapevine of gossip anymore? Or was it because Iwaizumi spent so long of his life considering Oikawa his universe that the possibility that other people didn't was still absurd to him?

His mind was racing, while his heart felt like it was struggling to beat. He had a million questions that he couldn't bring himself to ask; after so long of refusing to give Oikawa even the satisfaction of a cognizant thought, suddenly this was now all Iwaizumi's mind could focus on. This was a person who had broken Iwaizumi's heart so awfully that he thought he'd experienced the worst of life before he was even twenty, but the pain that Iwaizumi felt must have been what Oikawa felt at losing volleyball.

But what struck him the most was that volleyball wasn't a sport where tearing an ACL was one of the highest risk injuries. Similarly to Atsumu, this must have been something that was building up over time, so Oikawa should have had the warning signs.

Why did he let it get so bad?

Was it because Iwaizumi wasn't by his side?

Was he truly _this_ stupid when left unsupervised?

"Well, Sakusa-san," Oikawa said, reverting his gaze to meet Sakusa's and donning his smile again, "he does have a point. If you need to take painkillers for more than a few days to get through practice, that's often not a good sign. It doesn't seem to be a severe injury right now, but I'll be better to assess the extent and develop a treatment plan after my initial examination."

Sakusa nodded and even before Oikawa opened his mouth again, Iwaizumi had pushed off the wall. "I'll wait outside," he grumbled, opened the door with a bit more force than he likely needed.

His heart still felt like lead in his chest, but if he had to be around Oikawa for one more moment, he was afraid his fist would act with a mind of its own to achieve the same end goal. Even when Oikawa was out of his field of vision, he could feel his clenched fists trembling in his pockets; Iwaizumi kept licking his lips and his spotty vision made walking slightly difficult.

Right before the door closed, he could hear Sakusa ask if Oikawa knew him and the way Oikawa laughed almost had Iwaizumi kicking over a trash can.

"You could say that."

* * *

They dated for eight months before breaking up.

Early on in their last year of high school, Iwaizumi and Oikawa had gotten drunk at a small get together with the rest of the Seijoh team. They'd just been tipsy after a few beers, but as Iwaizumi was walking Oikawa home, he couldn't tell if Oikawa was slightly less annoying than usual because of his own temporarily nuanced version of reality or if it was because of something else entirely. Oikawa's constant chattering was less of a grating on his ears and when he'd walk too close and bump their shoulders, Iwaizumi found himself minding even less than he normally did, even when Oikawa would veer them off path for a moment.

Iwaizumi had realized a few months ago that he liked Oikawa in more than a platonic way, but it was something that he accepted without much thought, the way he reacted when he had moderate expectations for a new album and it was, indeed, moderate.

_Okay, so that's how it is now._

He'd grown up with Oikawa by his side; up until then, there wasn't a single important memory Iwaizumi had where Oikawa wasn't involved somewhere. There were also very few memories where Iwaizumi wasn't annoyed on some level by his antics, but right now as they were walking home together, he found that Oikawa's dramatics and exaggerations grated on his nerves just a little bit less, while his arm brushing against Iwaizumi's sent his heart fluttering just a little bit more.

The walk from Matsukawa's to Oikawa's wasn't long to begin with, but Iwaizumi had hoped his head would clear at least a little bit more. He still felt dazed when they stopped in front of Oikawa's door and even though he was standing still, he wondered if he was wobbling.

If he was, Oikawa would surely make fun of him, but he wasn't. Did that mean he wasn't wobbling? Or did that mean Oikawa was too self-involved to notice? Would he notice if Iwaizumi fell over? Should he try?

No, he decided firmly, he should not try to fall over just to get Oikawa's attention.

_"Iwa-chan, you wanna come in and sleepover? My parents aren't home and there's a leak that Iwa-chan can fix—"_

Unsurprisingly to anyone, Oikawa Tooru ended up being extra talkative under the influence of alcohol, while Iwaizumi seemed to become more pensive and spacey.

And, at this moment, bolder.

His action caught them both off guard. Oikawa had been waiting patiently and brightly for his agreement when Iwaizumi opted to lean forward, close the distance between them. Their first kiss happened with a backdrop of cicadas in the late summer night heard through an open window, the contact of their lips more electrifying through bodies that had been slightly numbed with alcohol.

The feeling of kissing Oikawa was the first solid, tangible memory Iwaizumi would remember the next day; after the second beer, everything became shrouded with a haze that lifted only when he was kissing his best friend for the first time.

Oikawa normally had incredibly quick reflexes, and while Iwaizumi wasn't sure if the delay in his response was because of alcohol or shock, he wasn't surprised when he pushed him back. He felt Oikawa's knuckles digging into his sternum; his hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt so tightly that if his mind had been clear, he would've thought about the fabric stretching out. Instead, Iwaizumi was focused on Oikawa, saw more than enough panic for both of them reflected in his expression. Iwaizumi still felt the weight of the alcohol blanket, dulling his nerves, and so he was able to keep himself together and nod.

 _"Sorry_ ," he said. _"…Let's just forget this, yeah?"_

Oikawa nodded and didn't stop Iwaizumi when he left.

That had been a Friday night, and that weekend was one of the few where they didn't see or text each other at all. Iwaizumi woke up with what he'd later realize was an absolute baby of hangovers and spent most of the weekend wondering what would happen on Monday, when Oikawa would _have_ to see him. They had to be fine, he thought, it was just one kiss. One alcohol-induced kiss, resulting from a small, masochistic crush that Iwaizumi harbored for Seijoh's most popular student.

Iwaizumi had woken up extra early that next Monday morning to wait where he normally did for Oikawa so that they'd walk to school together. He'd stood there for nearly half an hour when he realized that Oikawa might have woken up even _earlier_ to avoid him. The thought irked Iwaizumi; what if he'd just woken up early for no reason at all? If anyone would go overboard with anything, it would be Oikawa.

He'd just about decided to march right up to his apartment when he saw Oikawa coming out of the building at the exact same time as he always did. The relief he felt manifested in a glare and he swore there was no hesitation in the way Oikawa grinned cheekily and threw up a peace sign.

_"Shittykawa, you're late."_

_"What?! No, I'm not!"_

_"You're four seconds late."_

_"That doesn't count!"_

Just as he thought, they went back to normal.

They avoided alcohol; even when presented with the opportunity, both Iwaizumi and Oikawa would turn down the offered drinks, explain that it was the duty of the captain and vice captain to keep everyone in line. Iwaizumi had taken to handing out slices of bread to sober up the kids, while Oikawa would follow him and just hand out more beers.

Iwaizumi shoved maybe one too many pieces of bread into Oikawa's mouth when he found out this was happening.

The next two months passed as they always did and Iwaizumi was beginning to convince himself that he'd entirely hallucinated the kiss. He was at Oikawa's house one afternoon, under the premise of homework but actually just to play games and hang out, open textbooks and blank notebooks sprawled across the coffee table with sodas and snacks dispersed between. Oikawa had said there was something he needed to get and Iwaizumi nodded, eyes never leaving the television screen and fingers mashing at the controller, a mess of tangled wires and the gaming console by his feet.

He'd been in the middle of a boss battle when Oikawa returned. Iwaizumi didn't so much as glance over; he heard him approach and felt the slight breeze when he sat down next to him, backs pressed to the couch and sitting on top of cushions on the hardwood floor. It was only when he saw Oikawa set down a six pack of beer from the corner of his eye that he looked away, didn't care that he'd just died with one hit.

The memory came back in full force, very real and not at all a hallucination.

_Iwaizumi tried to keep from reacting too much, hated that Oikawa's expression was so perfectly neutral. "…It's four o'clock, Oikawa," he said slowly, not trusting his tongue with a normal speed of talking._

_Oikawa gazed at him for a moment longer, an unreadable look in his eyes. Iwaizumi's heart was palpitating rapidly, rattling in his ribcage, and when Oikawa's expression relaxed into a smile, his heart dropped the way the controller did._

_"Well, I want Iwa-chan to kiss me again."_

And then they started dating.

Little seemed different. Iwaizumi wasn't sure what to expect and he'd thought that best case, nothing changed, so it seemed like the best case scenario was happening. He and Oikawa hung out as they always did, spending most of their free time in and out of school together. He didn't have as much dating experience as Oikawa did and spent the first few weeks trying to subtly observe Oikawa, see what he did, assume that's what he would like reciprocated, and try to do that.

Iwaizumi had briefly thought back to Oikawa in his other relationships, and his face soured to imagine that Oikawa was expecting his room to be decorated with streamers and balloons, chocolates and candies left everywhere as a surprise. He'd directly asked if he wanted that and Oikawa had stared at him incredulously.

_"No… that would be really scary, coming from Iwa-chan…"_

Iwaizumi had scowled at his response and looked away, thought that it would be the end of the conversation. But then he felt Oikawa's hand on top of his, his palm soft and warm against his knuckles. Iwaizumi flinched but didn't move to pull away and slated his gaze over to see him smiling gently; he immediately felt the tips of his ears feel too warm as he dropped his gaze again.

_"Don't be nervous, Iwa-chan. I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone else for me, because you've always been perfect."_

For the most part, it was hard to distinguish what separated their friendship and relationship, but then Oikawa would say something like _that_ and Iwaizumi would be caught entirely off guard and realize that, yes, they were definitely dating.

Oikawa had always been better with words, saying things that most people would be too embarrassed to say out loud. But ever since they started dating, he seemed to do this more and more often; it didn't matter that sometimes he'd blush a little when saying it, there was one time where Iwaizumi literally had to stop walking in public to crouch down and bury his face in his arms because of something Oikawa had said. Oikawa had been perplexed and Iwaizumi wanted to snap _how can you say something like that with a straight face?!_ but one look at his face, and all Iwaizumi could think about was wanting to kiss him.

It had taken Iwaizumi almost a whole month to work up the nerve to ask him how he thought of saying stuff like that. Oikawa had seemed surprised at the question, asked him what he meant.

_"The… the romance stuff that you say," Iwaizumi stammered, waving his hand. "It's—how do you think of it?"_

_Oikawa was quiet for a moment. He blinked once, then twice; Iwaizumi was losing his nerve and about to tell him to forget it when Oikawa smiled in a way that made Iwaizumi panic. "…Sorry," he said finally and Iwaizumi immediately berated himself for managing to upset him without even trying. "Was it too much? I'll stop."_

_"N-no, I didn't say that, I just—"_

_Iwaizumi raised a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhaled. Oikawa still wasn't saying anything, but he could see in his expression that he was sad—Iwaizumi wasn't exactly sure why or what he did, all he knew was that Oikawa had interpreted it negatively, and he hated being why he was sad. Oikawa wasn't much of an open book, but it seemed too easy for Iwaizumi to read him; it came in use when Oikawa was being difficult to handle, but it just meant that for someone who was used to microscopic expressions, Oikawa not bothering to hide his feelings was earth-shattering._

_Taking Oikawa's hand with his free one, Iwaizumi let his hand drop his face, exposing the faint red tinging his cheeks. "…I just wanna know how you think of the things you say because… I mean, they're nice. Like, am I supposed to start reading books so I know what kind of shit to say?"_

_"…Iwa-chan's weird," he heard after a pause and whipped his head, ready to glare at Oikawa. But when he looked over, Oikawa was gazing the other direction, just barely enough of his face visible for Iwaizumi to see the small, lopsided curve of his lips that the back of his hand was skimming against. "I say things that express how Iwa-chan makes me feel. It… would be nice if Iwa-chan could be a little nicer, but I don't want you to parrot what other people say. Just say what you feel when you're ready, okay?"_

_Oikawa never brought his gaze over, but Iwaizumi knew he knew he was staring at him. Exhaling again, Iwaizumi nodded and squeezed his hand._

_"…Okay. That sounds doable."_

Iwaizumi didn't know if it was because he just wasn't good with words or if Oikawa was better with them, but the kind of things Oikawa said never came to mind for him. Iwaizumi couldn't help but feel guilty; he knew what he felt, so why did it seem like Oikawa could start rivaling Shakespeare when Iwaizumi's vocabulary was reduced to about fifteen words, twenty if he was lucky? It was easy to reciprocate the physical touches that were introduced to their relationship; reaching for Oikawa's hand became a reflex very quickly, and wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in the crook of his neck became a go-to when they were alone. Oikawa would still fall asleep with his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder on the train and Iwaizumi would rest his head on Oikawa's, then they'd both miss the stop and argue with each other about whose fault it was, but never once pull their hands apart. If Iwaizumi was standing so close behind Oikawa that he could feel his breath on his ear, chances were that he also had a hand on his hips to keep him that close.

But the things that Oikawa would say that would turn Iwaizumi's face beet red and render him speechless were things Iwaizumi couldn't reciprocate; he couldn't think of things like that and even if he could, it felt too embarrassing to say. He didn't think Oikawa minded; after all, he was the one who said to say what he felt when he was ready, but then they started fighting more and more often, and that would always get brought up.

They'd fought a lot as friends, but they were inconsequential friend fights: stealing food (Oikawa was always the culprit), choosing movies (Iwaizumi always acquiesced), who was stupider (Oikawa), who was stronger (this was one fight and clearly Iwaizumi), which one of them wore the uniform correctly ("why is this even a fight we're having?" "because I need Iwa-chan to realize how wrong he is!").

But their fights as boyfriends weren't as inconsequential.

Iwaizumi wasn't sure when the tipping point was. Their relationship had felt so natural and easy, so similar to how they were as friends, that he thought things were going well. But then they started fighting more and more often, saying more and more genuinely hurtful things, and he felt less and less confident in the relationship.

Maybe it was the pressure: they weren't just dating anybody, they were dating _each other_.

Maybe it was the timing: they were going to different colleges.

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

They spent so much time together that it wasn't physically possible to always be talking. Their silences had always been comfortable, interrupted with quiet grunts or murmurs, before the quiet blanketed them again. But now, the absences of speech were suffocating; they knew each other too well, so even without saying anything, they knew when the other was mad and the refusal to say anything just made the other mad too.

They soon ended up barely talking, and when they did, it was just to fight. Iwaizumi hated it; even from the outside if it seemed like their dynamic was always being annoyed, Iwaizumi loved to spend time with him. Oikawa was annoying, but he also made Iwaizumi laugh. He made him think and ponder unexpectedly deep topics, he challenged Iwaizumi in a way nobody else ever could. He'd yell at Oikawa because he cared so much about him when Oikawa didn't seem to care about his own wellbeing at all, but he'd rarely yell for other reasons.

One of their fights had been about their first date. It had felt fine when they were there, but months later when they seemed to fight about everything, the topic came up and Iwaizumi couldn't help but immediately feel defensive.

_"Then why didn't you just tell me that you weren't having a good time?!" Iwaizumi snapped, glaring. Oikawa's arms were folded tightly across his chest, biting on his lip and keeping his gaze averted._

_"It's not that I wasn't having a good time, it's that it didn't feel like a date. And because I know you're not experienced with dating-"_

_"So you're fucking coddling me?!" Iwaizumi asked incredulously and Oikawa groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm an adult, Oikawa, I've asked you hundreds of times what you want-"_

_"I don't want you to do things just because I told you to!" Oikawa responded tersely. "It's-I want you to be doing things because that's what you want to do! I know you've been watching me to see what I do and it was endearing, but now I'm wondering if you ever would've thought to do them on your own-"_

_"So you're saying I'm not fucking original because I didn't think to hold your hand first or something?"_

_"I'm saying that I don't know if you do things like that because you think that's what I want or if it's what you want!" he answered, voice starting to rise to meet Iwaizumi's. That was never a good time, but Iwaizumi was too annoyed to consider de-escalating; all they did recently was fight, it was becoming their new habit._

_"Isn't it the same?!"_

_"No!"_

_Iwaizumi swore under his breath and pushed his hair back. "It's fucking hand holding, Oikawa, get over it-"_

_"That was just an example-stop minimizing-"_

_"I'm not minimizing shit, you're just not making sense!"_

They didn't speak for two weeks after that and it took Iwaizumi four pieces of milk bread left on his desk, two volumes of a manga series Oikawa had picked up snuck into his locker, and a five foot tall alien plushie to get Oikawa to even look at him again. His mother had been amused when Iwaizumi showed up at their door with the plushie and let him in, taking the opportunity to do some grocery shopping.

Iwaizumi had waited silently on the couch; he'd been alone at Oikawa's home plenty of times, but this was the first time he didn't feel comfortable watching television or looking through their pantry. The only movements he made were to check his phone or to straighten the toy, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid for spending money on something like this at their age, but he just knew Oikawa would like it, which made it worth the nights of researching and tracking down someone willing to make it.

Oikawa returned home about half an hour later, calling out _I'm home_. He'd been looking down, so when it was Iwaizumi's voice that answered him, he froze, expression instantly changing from tired but relaxed to wary.

_He was eying the plushie, Iwaizumi noted immediately, amused that even when he was upset, he'd still be charmed by something so stupid._

_Iwaizumi cleared his throat. "You eat the milk bread or did it go to waste?" he tried._

_Oikawa didn't say anything, just tossed his keys onto a dish and kicked the door shut. Iwaizumi sighed and stood from the couch, making sure to balance the plushie before he headed over to Oikawa._

_Iwaizumi had initially been mad enough to not care, but when two weeks passed and Oikawa kept showing up at school with red, blood-shot eyes, Iwaizumi's guilt won out against his anger. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Oikawa had been on the verge of tears at the end of the fight and came to school the next day with his eyes still red and slightly puffy. He may not know what Oikawa considered to be a good boyfriend, but he did know that he shouldn't be making him cry. Even as a friend, he shouldn't be making him cry._

_"...I'm sorry," he said quietly, standing in front of Oikawa as he was stepping out of his shoes, still ignoring him. His eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath to keep calm. "Oikawa. You have to at least look at me."_

_"I don't have to do anything, Iwaizumi," he said sharply and Iwaizumi frowned at his tone. Oikawa didn't normally snap and even if his tone was angry, Iwaizumi could hear the smallest of wavers in his voice._

_"Tooru," Iwaizumi tried again, this time grabbing Oikawa's wrist to try and force his attention, "you can't just stop talking to me-"_

_Iwaizumi was stronger, but if Oikawa tried hard enough, he could definitely get out of his grip. He'd raised his arm and tried to jerk it away from him but to no avail; Iwaizumi's grip tightened for a moment, but then relaxed immediately when he caught a glimpse of Oikawa's eyes before he bowed his head again, chest seizing to realize he was about to cry._

_He faltered for a moment. "...Geez, I stay away, you cry, I show up, you cry," Iwaizumi mumbled with a half-hearted smile and swallowed thickly. He let go of Oikawa's wrist and took a small step back, resting his hands in his pockets instead. "...I'm really a terrible boyfriend."_

_He'd dropped his gaze to the impeccably clean floor when he heard a sniffle. Iwaizumi instantly bit his lip; his nails dug into the flesh of his palms and he closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath, desperately hoping that Oikawa would stop. But when the sniffles became choked sobs, he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Oikawa firmly, refusing to let go even when he felt Oikawa push at him weakly. "I'm sorry," he murmured again into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and carding his fingers through Oikawa's hair. He could feel Oikawa's tears against his neck and his shirt along with the way he was shaking and Iwaizumi thought that if hearts could physically fall apart, his definitely was at that moment. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his own voice cracking. "Tooru… I'm sorry, please stop crying…"_

_Iwaizumi hated when Oikawa cried and the only thing he hated more was when it was because of him. Oikawa cried easily; when they were little, a beetle had fallen on his head, and he'd kept crying even when it flew away after he started shaking his head. Iwaizumi had immediately set off with his net, leaving little Oikawa sitting on the ground bawling, the kindergarten teacher hurrying over and fretting over him._

_Little Iwaizumi had returned victorious; he proudly showed the beetle in his net. "I caught him for you! He's never going to hurt you again!"_

_Oikawa had stopped crying almost immediately; his eyes were still glassy and red, but he was beaming and smiling, clapping his hands. "Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan saved me!"_

_He'd never forget that swell of pride._

_Iwaizumi still didn't know what exactly made Oikawa so mad at him, if it was a certain instance or if it was something bigger, but all he knew was that he was willing to do anything in that moment to make him stop. He hated knowing that he'd hurt Oikawa so badly without meaning to; his heart ached and he felt tears brimming in his eyes, doing his best to hold Oikawa together until he could do so himself._

_Loosening his grip only when Oikawa's shoulders stopped shaking, Iwaizumi waited for him to pull back first before doing the same. The back of his eyes felt hot and he didn't trust himself to speak yet; he used both of his hands to cup Oikawa's face and wipe away his tears. Iwaizumi tried to smile. "...You cry ugly," he said gently and Oikawa glared back just as weakly._

_"...I hate you," he said in a tiny voice that couldn't hold venom if he'd tried._

_Iwaizumi's tiny, lopsided smile widened and he gave a small nod. "Yeah. I do too, right now," he answered quietly, swallowing. "...Are we okay, or do you need more time?"_

_"...We're okay," Oikawa murmured after a pause, averting his gaze. He sniffled again and Iwaizumi was wiping another tear before Oikawa was even lifting his hand. "I'm still mad at you, but… I miss you."_

_Iwaizumi felt a pang in his chest at his words, but ignored it, just whispered another apology. He watched him for another moment and hesitantly passed his thumbs over his cheekbones. When Oikawa sighed and leaned into his touch, he breathed a sigh of relief that moved his shoulders._

_Things still felt precarious, but walking on ice was better than being suspended in nothingness. They'd been fighting so much recently that Iwaizumi would take any moment of peace he could; nothing felt right if Oikawa was upset with him, and Iwaizumi just desperately wanted at least a few moments where it felt his feet were solidly planted on the ground with Oikawa next to him._

_Iwaizumi felt like it was a little easier to breathe as he cradled Oikawa's cheek, watching him fondly. Iwaizumi didn't realize how badly he could hurt someone he cared for without knowing he was doing so; based on how upset he was, this had been something that had been hurting Oikawa long before they fought about it, and thinking that made Iwaizumi frown again._

_He swallowed thickly. "Is it okay if I kiss you?"_

_Oikawa's eyes flickered open; he seemed surprised, but it passed and he offered a small smile. "...You don't have to ask that, Iwa-chan. You never do."_

_For the first time in two weeks, Iwaizumi felt like he could smile, though it was short-lived, fading when he leaned in. Iwaizumi could taste the salt from his tears and moved his lips against Oikawa's slowly, hands moving to cup his jaw as he angled his head. Oikawa's hands came to rest on his hips and Iwaizumi took a step closer to press their bodies flush together; he kissed him slowly and languidly, wanting to etch this moment into his memory forever. He wasn't the most experienced kisser and he'd never thought much about it until he started kissing Oikawa, because this was someone with whom he wanted every kiss to be absolutely perfect._

_Iwaizumi paused for a breath; he could just barely make out the sounds of their pants above his blood pounding in his ears. Iwaizumi leaned in again as soon as he was able to, kissing Oikawa over and over until he felt Oikawa smile. Even then, he kept kissing him until Oikawa started laughing and he finally pulled back, smiling at him. "Iwa-chan…"_

_"You finally laughed," he said quietly. "Thank god."_

_Oikawa gave a grin that left Iwaizumi's knees feeling weak, turning briefly to leave a fleeting kiss to Iwaizumi's palm. Iwaizumi breathed another sigh of relief and leaned in, rested his forehead against Oikawa's temple and reveled in the feeling of being so close to him. He'd almost lost himself in a daze when Oikawa's gentle voice brought him out of it, eyes opening and pulling back._

_"Iwa-chan," Oikawa started, "...you do like me, right?"_

_"Ha?" Iwaizumi frowned. "Of course I do. Why're you asking?"_

_Oikawa didn't say anything for a moment. Iwaizumi's heart dropped to his stomach again, wondering if Oikawa could feel the way his palms were starting to feel too warm. He finally sighed and reached his hands up, taking Iwaizumi's gently and pulling them away from his face. "...Because I know how kind Iwa-chan is," he mumbled, keeping his eyes down, "so… are you dating me just because you know how much I like you? Or do you actually feel the same way?"_

_Iwaizumi's brow furrowed. Oikawa was just about to let go of their hands when Iwaizumi firmly grasped them again; Oikawa jolted slightly, eyes wide when he looked back to him. "Iwa-"_

_"I'm dating you because I like you," Iwaizumi said firmly. "I'm not good at showing it, but I'm with you because I like you. I kissed you because I like you. You're right, I'd do anything to make you happy, but pretending to feel something I don't… I wouldn't do that. Not to anyone, but especially not to you. You mean too much to me for that."_

_Iwaizumi knew Oikawa better than anyone, but there would still be moments where even he wouldn't be able to read him. He held his gaze steady as Oikawa was looking at him searchingly; Iwaizumi had no idea what he was thinking and if he'd believed what Iwaizumi was honestly saying. His heart started to race just a little but as soon as Oikawa smiled, he relaxed and swore his knees almost buckled under him._

_"...If Iwa-chan says more things like that, I think we'll be okay."_

It had been their first big fight and for a while afterwards, things were back to normal. The only thing Iwaizumi regretted was getting him the stupid alien plushie; Oikawa had grown much too attached to it and Iwaizumi found himself placing another custom order for an even bigger one.

He'd meant what he said, but, at the same time, Iwaizumi still had no idea what he was doing to trigger the other fights. They became more and more frequent until it felt like all they did was fight; Iwaizumi didn't know how many times he could say he liked Oikawa until he'd believe it. He liked him, he thought, and he liked him back, how was that not enough?

He'd tried to talk to Matsukawa and Hanamaki about it, but they just shrugged it off, replied that this was probably what it was like to date Oikawa Tooru. They even suggested asking his exes and, out of desperation, Iwaizumi had tried that, only to be told that they'd dumped Oikawa because of volleyball or his clear infatuation with Iwaizumi, which didn't help him much (and just left him red for the rest of the day.)

It felt like no matter what he did, the fights never stopped. Iwaizumi never lied about how he felt, but it seemed like honesty wasn't enough, and that was all he had. He'd known that Oikawa could be insecure, but his insecurity about their relationship seemed to translate to mistrust of Iwaizumi, which he couldn't help but take personally.

_"You're so fucking overdramatic, Oikawa," Iwaizumi retorted. "What do you want from me? This is a high school relationship," he spat before he could stop himself, "it's—"_

_He managed to stop himself, but he couldn't look away in time to avoid seeing Oikawa's expression altogether. "…Fuck, that came out wrong—"_

_"'This is a high school relationship'?" Oikawa echoed. "…What, you already think this is going to end? And then what? We go back to how we were? You can't possibly be that naïve—if this is just a high school relationship to you, then why would you—"_

_"Because I like you!" he yelled. "Isn't that enough?! Two people liking each other—"_

_"I don't just_ —"

_"Apparently it's not enough, because nothing is fucking enough for you, Oikawa!" Iwaizumi interrupted, this time bringing a clenched fist to the wall. "You say that I don't have to say stuff until I'm ready, and now, what, you're upset that I can't fucking wax poetic the way you do?! I'm just not good enough? Have you ever considered that you're the problem? Yeah, maybe this relationship doesn't have as much passion as your two week one—so then why did it last only two weeks?!"_

They broke up a month before graduation and stopped talking.

The entire summer passed with no communication. Their friends made plans with them separately; Matsukawa and Hanamaki had been shocked to hear they broke up, and had laughed it off, said that they'd be back together before college started. But Iwaizumi and Oikawa didn't so much as mention the other for those months, only doing so to say they weren't talking about them. Iwaizumi ended up moving early after arranging it with the school; he had to get out of Miyagi because it was hard to breathe among its two million residents. Almost as soon as he set foot and became one of Tokyo's nine million inhabitants, it became easier to breathe, even when he knew Oikawa had moved there as well.

He'd never had a fight with Oikawa like this. Their fights usually resolved after a few weeks at most, either because one of them would invite the other to a movie or leave some kind of food offering in their locker. While they didn't have a reason to see each other every day as they did in high school, their colleges weren't that far apart, and they had Matsukawa and Hanamaki as messengers.

Iwaizumi knew better than anyone that despite his bravado and smiles, Oikawa was more sensitive and harder on himself than anyone, and he recognized that some of what he said had taken their fight too far. He also knew Oikawa had more pride than anyone and refused to be the first to bend the knee; they were both at fault, but if he reached out first, he knew Oikawa would take that to be his "win" and Iwaizumi still firmly believe that he _wasn't_ in the wrong.

It was naïve, but when they started dating, he never seriously thought about what would happen if they broke up. He'd considered it before he decided to kiss Oikawa and he'd thought that if they did break up, their friendship was strong enough to survive it and though it would take a while, they'd go back to being friends. They were Iwaizumi and Oikawa; they'd been born a month apart and that was the longest Iwaizumi had ever been apart from Oikawa. Sometimes it felt like they had been predestined by the stars before they were born—instead of just a red string of fate, they had an entire galaxy on their side.

College started without a word from Oikawa. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were attending the same school as Iwaizumi, and he knew that they were visiting Oikawa when they could, but he told them that he didn't care about Oikawa and didn't want to know how he was doing. Iwaizumi wouldn't even be fully honest with himself; he was still angry from the fight, and Oikawa not reaching out afterwards only made it worse. He'd never been this furious with Oikawa before and didn't know how to handle it, swore months passed by in a blur where the only real, tangible feeling he had was the burning in his chest.

That being said, Iwaizumi never once denied to himself the hurt he was feeling.

He was almost as hurt as he was angry; immediately after the fight, even though he was beyond angry, he hadn't thought that would be the end to their friendship. It was a big fight, but Iwaizumi had thought that they would eventually make up.

But then time passed and as Oikawa didn't reach out, Iwaizumi didn't, and he was beginning to realize that he may have truly lost him. He missed him so badly that for the first few weeks of college, Iwaizumi found it hard to eat and sleep. Nobody had ever come close to being what Oikawa was to him, either as a friend or boyfriend. Iwaizumi missed being able to open up their chat, text him something as aimless as 'I'm bored' and having Oikawa immediately send back a selfie or image of half eaten milk bread.

Iwaizumi joined the volleyball team, despite knowing his height would keep him from advancing past college. And because of his height, he wasn't put on the starting lineup; nonetheless, when he learned that they'd be facing Oikawa's school, he ended up swallowing his pride and texted him. It was short and concise, and he turned off his phone entirely as soon as it sent, unable to handle the tantalizing pressure of waiting for a response.

**To: Tooru**

_we're playing you next week. can we talk?_

Oikawa never answered his text.

Iwaizumi hadn't had high hopes; Oikawa wasn't genuinely upset often, but when he was, it was white hot anger that seemed like it would never stop, until one day it just did. That's how he was, and Iwaizumi knew that, so he didn't think too much about never receiving a response. He still held onto the hope that at some point, they would start talking again because the bond he had with Oikawa was one-in-a-million.

Of all the places and generations for two people to be born, they were born a street and a month apart—they were destined by the stars.

It was an away game for Iwaizumi's school, and he couldn't help but be nervous on the bus ride over. His teammates didn't know about his past relationship with Oikawa, but he had been texting Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who were now making bets in their group chat about how long it would take for them to get back together. Matsukawa said after the game. Hanamaki said before.

Iwaizumi said to shut up.

When the bus stopped and the team filed out of the vehicle, they headed to the locker rooms to change and start warming up. Iwaizumi was brought as second string, and so he took the first opportunity he had to slip out of the gym, under the guise of looking for a water fountain. He didn't know how exactly he was supposed to find Oikawa on a campus he'd been to exactly one time, but he decided to follow his gut.

Iwaizumi didn't know how long he'd been wandering up and down hallways, but at one point he saw a door and decided to open it, stepping through and realizing he was outside the building only when it closed. He tried to reopen it with no avail and ended up deciding to walk around and find the main entrance. Grumbling under his breath, he started walking, rounding a wall to see two people intertwined against a wall.

His first instinct was to stutter an apology; the girl squeaked and hurriedly tried to pull her shirt down, turning away but her blush still evident. Iwaizumi recognized after a moment that the other person was also wearing a uniform, the number thirteen adorned on the back. _Thirteen? That's—_

Then he looked up and saw Oikawa.

Oikawa, alive and well, staring at him and smirking after a moment, never breaking eye contact as he brought the back of his hand up to wipe what Iwaizumi assumed had to be lipstick off of his mouth. Oikawa, looking at him the way he used to look at opponents he didn't think deserved to be taken seriously. Oikawa, verbally saying nothing, but visually saying everything and that was the moment that Iwaizumi realized, it was over.

Not just their relationship. Iwaizumi had accepted that they may have ruined any possibility of a romantic relationship long ago, but he missed the platonic relationship even more than that. Their almost-two-decade-long friendship had mattered more to Iwaizumi than anything, and even if it took him months, Iwaizumi finally swallowed his pride to try and repair it.

But, he realized, he was too late, because Oikawa had severed that as well the minute he walked out after their fight. Maybe he'd been presumptuous to think that after a fight like that, there would still be something to lose, as if it hadn't been lost already.

The game passed by in a blur; Iwaizumi refused to even look in the direction of the opponent unless he absolutely had to, cheering extra loudly for every point his team made. They had narrowly lost, which absolutely infuriated him because he couldn't stop seeing Oikawa's smug expression.

Iwaizumi quit the team after that; after all, there was no point to keep going when his height would be an obstacle he couldn't overcome. And, truth to be told, he'd also joined the team because of Oikawa, wanting to meet him on the court just once as opponents. Even before they were both on court, it felt like something incredibly important in their lives had come to a close in the worst way possible.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa didn't seem to mind that Iwaizumi didn't answer his phone the rest of the night; they cornered him the next day on the way to class and teased him, asked if there was a reason he never texted back, how hard was it to stay on their sides of the court during the game—

_"Fuck Oikawa."_

_Iwaizumi slammed his textbook shut so hard his coffee spilled a little bit. Matsukawa and Hanamaki both faltered, stunned into silence at his reaction._

_"We're done."_

He spent the rest of college trying to reduce Oikawa, who shaped Iwaizumi into who he was today, into an inconsequential, hollow version of himself. It was hard for Iwaizumi to breathe if he thought him too much; Oikawa had been more important to him than himself for almost twenty years, and he couldn't stop seeing the way he was looking at him, like he didn't matter at all. Iwaizumi had felt hurt before, but never like this, and he never thought it would be by Oikawa.

Hearing a door open, Iwaizumi didn't need to look up to know who it was. He'd loitered outside in the hallway for the duration of the exam; he'd originally intended on just taking a minute to cool down, but before he knew it, he'd missed the entire assessment and felt guilty for letting Sakusa down twice now.

Oikawa cleared his throat, but Iwaizumi didn't bother looking up; it took everything to keep his scowl to a minimum.

He heard a sigh, could imagine the way Oikawa was shaking his head. "We'll do physical therapy—"

"'We'?" Iwaizumi echoed, finally casting his gaze to meet Oikawa's and crossed his arms with a furrow of his brow.

Oikawa's eyes narrowed. "Yes. I'd think that as his trainer, you'd want to be here to monitor his progress, wouldn't you?"

Oikawa's voice was even, but Iwaizumi could still read in between his words and into his expression.

Iwaizumi scoffed, turning away. "Fuck off. We both know I don't need to be here. I don't know what your fucked up plan is—"

"I don't have a _plan_ ," Oikawa snapped, unable to help the sharpness in his tone. He took a second to recompose himself and Iwaizumi dug his nails into his arms to try and do the same. "…Injuries like this are some of the most dangerous, because they'll silently end careers," he said in a low voice, "so I'm saying that _we_ will both be here to monitor his progress and discuss his treatment plan."

Iwaizumi knew that this was the closest that Oikawa would ever come to admitting that Iwaizumi was right, but it was hard to feel smug when a part of him was still stuck on the idea of Oikawa losing his entire career and Iwaizumi having no idea until now.

Dropping his arms and resting his hands in his pockets, Iwaizumi scoffed quietly; he hated it, but Oikawa was right and he cared about his team and his job. He nodded. "Fine," he grumbled. "When?"

"Twice a week. We'll develop something for him to do on his own at home every day, but I want to make sure he's improving. I'll let you know which days soon."

Iwaizumi nodded. "Fine."

Side-stepping Oikawa, Iwaizumi opened the door and propped it open with his foot to see Sakusa with his arm in a sling. "Sakusa, let's go. I'll take you home."

He nodded and stood. Iwaizumi held the door open for him, waited until he was in the hallway to let it close. He'd just taken a step to leave without so much as glancing at Oikawa again when his voice, razor sharp and ice cold, felt like it jerked him back.

"Phone number."

Iwaizumi froze. When he regained his senses, he glared at Oikawa incredulously. " _…What_?"

"Phone number," Oikawa repeated calmly, expression unmoving. "Or am I supposed to contact someone to put me through to you every time I need to contact you?"

Iwaizumi felt like an idiot.

"…Right," Iwaizumi mumbled after a moment, still annoyed. He stepped forward to take Oikawa's clipboard from him and scrawled his number in the corner. "Don't lose it."

Oikawa smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course not, Iwaizumi."

Sakusa loitered impassively, blinked just once every several seconds. Iwaizumi sighed, rubbing his face, mumbled "I'll wait for your text then," and Oikawa hummed without turning around. Iwaizumi was about to turn and leave when he stopped again, brow knit.

"Hey. One more thing."

He looked over his shoulder, saw Oikawa looking at him. Iwaizumi purposely lingered his eyes on Oikawa's knee; he was glaring when they made eye contact again, and Iwaizumi's expression hardened.

"If you're not going to actually take care of your knee, at least hide it, yeah? It's not giving you much credibility as a physiotherapist."

He turned, expression impassive even when he swore he heard Oikawa scowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> successfully got my beta to feel sad while going through this chapter, so i am pleased with it :)
> 
> thank you for reading! kudos/comments loved and cherished ♥️♥️


	4. dreamscapes on the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "no, no, hear me out. right people, wrong time. it's a real thing. you and iwaizumi could be meant for each other, the stars just said 'nah, not yet.'"

Iwaizumi opened his door to see Himari holding a box of his things. His immediate reaction had been to pinch himself and all that accomplished was Himari's glare hardening and Iwaizumi's arm hurting.

Iwaizumi was surprised, to say the least; the last he had been apprised of the situation, Yachi had texted that she'd be at Himari's apartment later that day after work for him to stop by and pick up his things. He wasn't overly close with Yachi, but she didn't seem like someone who would either intend to deceive or be able to pull off a lie, so he could only assume that Himari singlehandedly decided to show up. He'd been in the middle of getting ready to head out when he heard a knock at his door; Iwaizumi had glanced at his phone with a scowl, wondered who would be so self-absorbed to show up at a time when most people were getting ready to leave for work.

"Hey," he said quietly and she replied with silence. Iwaizumi lingered for a moment, shifting under the weight of her glare. "Uh… I—"

Her eyes narrowed and Iwaizumi faltered and stepped aside, sighing and palming the back of his neck. "…Come in."

"…"

"…Please?"

Himari still didn't say anything, but walked into his apartment and Iwaizumi was able to catch a whiff of a familiar perfume as she passed by, heart feeling heavy. Iwaizumi scratched the back of his head and let the door close, pulled out his phone to text the coach that he'd be a bit late today, glancing up often to make sure she wouldn't spot him and misinterpret it somehow. When they'd dated, she had been refreshingly reasonable, but now that they were broken up, Iwaizumi could only assume she'd magnify anything that he could be doing wrong into something he definitely was doing wrong. "Do you… want anything?" he tried. "Water?"

She dropped the box of things unceremoniously on his floor and glowered at him, taking a seat on his couch. Iwaizumi was starting to lose his patience, but instead decided to take a deep breath and keep his nerves in check, reminding himself that he was in the wrong. He navigated to his kitchen to retrieve two water bottles and brought them over to the couch, where he set one in front of her and then took a seat at the other end of the couch.

He cleared his throat. "…Thanks for dropping my stuff off. I honestly thought you'd have burned it all by now."

"I considered it," she said finally. Iwaizumi watched her eye the water, ultimately choosing to ignore it and crossing her legs to match her arms.

He smiled dryly, taking a sip of his water. He could see his phone light up with a text from the corner of his eye and immediately slipped it into his pocket, recapping his water and leaning forward to set it on the table. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice after a few more moments of silence. "I know it's not enough, but…"

"We dated for _two_ years," Himari interrupted and Iwaizumi tensed, hearing a waver underlining her tone. He could tell the anger she'd brought with her was beginning to disappear, and that was a feeling that Iwaizumi found himself empathizing with. As overwhelming and strong as anger could be, once he was in front of someone he cared about, whether now or in the past, it was hard to hold onto that negativity. "We were together for two years, we were _engaged_ , and yet when I yelled at you that we were over, you didn't even fight back."

Iwaizumi's eyes dropped and he remained silent. She was right; his heart had felt heavy ever since, but he'd been able to carry on with his life for the most part. It was only when he'd see her favorite coffee chain or overhear someone talking about her favorite drama that he'd need to take a moment collect himself; Iwaizumi knew heartbreak devastatingly well, and the fact that his guilt for not hurting as much as he had over Oikawa made him feel worse than the break-up.

He'd lay awake at night to wonder why; his relationship with Himari had lasted more than twice as long, and it had been such a healthy relationship. They fought, as all couples did, but they'd talk it out and rarely fought about the same thing twice. They enjoyed spending time together and had plenty in common, their silences were never tense or draining, and for a while, he'd considered her presence to be the most soothing out of everyone's. They were so well suited to each other and it was just the easy kind of relationship that Iwaizumi had thought he had with Oikawa.

Maybe easy didn't lead to devastating heartbreak, though.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Iwaizumi slated his gaze to his floor. "…You deserved—"

"No," she interrupted sharply and Iwaizumi's brow furrowed but he didn't say anything. "I came here to talk to you because I want an explanation. You're a good guy, Hajime, so I don't get what happened."

Iwaizumi frowned and wished he'd had something to say. Something at some point had changed, and he'd spent days trying to pinpoint when; Iwaizumi wasn't an expert on romance and wondered if that inexperience was why this was now the third important relationship he'd lost and couldn't clearly explain why, with Oikawa being both of the others.

When they first started dating, it had been so simple and carefree and when the honeymoon phase ended, it became comfort, like coming home after a long day and curling up with her while listening to thunderstorms, taking care of her when sick and teasing her, and doing nothing but just reading a book while laying next to her and feeling content. There had always been that warm feeling in his chest and over time, it started fading; Iwaizumi had thought that was just normal that the novelty of romance and relationships slowly wore off and settled into a routine, but maybe it wasn't—maybe that had been the sign and he'd missed it.

Because at that point it was still so easy to be with her, but they made each other smile less and less often. He'd see and hear her laughing with her friends, but it wasn't like that with him anymore, and it was the same with him. They still spent time together, but the silences were more for lack of conversation than wordless communications. Something changed and Iwaizumi hadn't noticed it, or he had but misinterpreted it, and it was too late when he realized it.

"You didn't fight for me at all," she said in a tiny voice. "I… were you falling out of love with me? Did I miss that, or—"

Iwaizumi glanced at her and watched her expression freeze. "…Oh," she breathed and looked down. "…You… were falling out of love with me."

Iwaizumi rubbed his face tiredly with a quiet groan. "I'm—I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't realize…"

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Iwaizumi dropped his hand.

"…I didn't realize it until we broke up, but… yeah."

"You… tried to learn how to play the guitar to sing to me," Himari said, voice shaking. "You gave yourself a third-degree burn trying to cook me a celebratory dinner when I got my job. You literally _ran_ all around Tokyo because one night when I was mad and lost my phone, you were terrified something happened to me. You and I were so in love at one point and I thought that it faded just because we were out of the honeymoon, but you… you stopped loving me that way, didn't you?"

He heard the way she shakily inhaled and closed his eyes, brow furrowing and feeling a lump in his throat. "…I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I really am, I—I just didn't realize until after we broke up."

"What happened…?" she asked softly. "It… it just happened? Did I do something? I thought we were on the same page this whole time, I thought it was just a rough patch because of how busy and tired you were, but—what happened?"

Iwaizumi wished he could tell her that there was a single reason that he could assign all the blame to, but he couldn't. He didn't have much experience, but what he did know was that love was never rational; if it was, it wouldn't be something that had the propensity to ruin what he'd once thought unbreakable.

Licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "I'm so—"

"Don't say you're sorry again, Hajime," she said tightly, hands clenching in her lap and he fell silent. "I just… I waited all night for you to call or come back or _something_. You had to know I was home all night; even when I slammed the door shut, I left it unlocked because I thought for sure you'd come in. But you didn't, and you didn't even text or call—what happened? You're not the same person I thought you were—"

"I slept with someone," Iwaizumi interrupted tiredly, already bracing himself for anything ranging from disappointed silence to a slap. "…That night, when we broke up. I didn't reach out because I was at a bar getting hammered, waiting for _you_ to text, giving up and taking someone home."

He opened his eyes and focused them on the space between his feet.

"…That's what I mean by you deserve better."

Iwaizumi couldn't bring himself to look at her. Seeing Oikawa had brought up enough anger that he'd been able to distract himself from the pain of a breakup, but now with her here in his apartment, he couldn't avoid it anymore because even if he'd fallen out of love with her, he still cared for her deeply. This was now Iwaizumi's second break up from a relationship, and they had both been because he was accused of not putting in enough effort. When it was only Oikawa, Iwaizumi could dismiss it as his insecurity, but when it was both Oikawa and Himari, he had to take a moment to look at himself; was he actually the problem?

In one relationship, he realized the true extent of what he felt after they broke up, and in the other, he realized the absence; if only he'd realized them sooner, he thought, maybe he could have spared two people he cared about so much pain. Iwaizumi had never thought of himself as an emotional person, but he did think of himself as someone who was honest with himself—so what happened?

They'd always been fine as friends; his friendships with Oikawa and Himari were both so effortless and easy. It was only when they started dating that the fighting happened, although it seemed that Himari was willing to give him more chances. A part of Iwaizumi knew that he hadn't proposed with pure intentions, but in his mind, she was the girl he was going to marry; his chest seized to think his feelings had already started waning by that point.

Himari was silent, the kind of steel-cold anger that reminded him of only one other person. He took a deep breath; like Oikawa, he thought, she was stubborn and wouldn't talk first. "I'm sorry, Himari. I never wanted to hurt—"

"So… you _really_ never thought to fight for me."

Iwaizumi couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"So I said that we're done with," Himari continued, voice shaking, "and… you just accept it? You just leave and sleep with someone else? You said you were waiting to see if I'd text; why didn't you reach out? What was stopping you?"

"I—" Iwaizumi faltered, taking a moment to lick his lips. "…You were angry, I was giving you space—"

" _Space_? You give someone space when you're fighting and you need to cool down, not when your _fiancée_ breaks up with you!" she yelled and Iwaizumi winced. "That's not the time for space—you know that, don't you?! I loved you so much and… and you can't help if you don't love me that way anymore, but taking the coward's way out? Hurting me like this? It's—"

At the time, he'd thought giving her space was the right thing to do; he'd hardly ever seen her that angry, and when Oikawa was that angry, he'd always left him alone. But, Iwaizumi realized, she and Oikawa were different people. He'd known Oikawa for almost two decades and he knew her for five in total; while he didn't think that giving space was necessarily the worst thing to do, he realized that while he thought he was giving space, he may have just been walking away.

The guilt in Iwaizumi's chest started growing; he could feel it spread from his sternum to his ribs, invade the space of his heart and lungs, stifling his breathing. "I didn't do it to hurt you," Iwaizumi tried, "I'm sorry that it did, but I swear, that wasn't my intention—"

"You don't drink, Iwaizumi!" she snapped and he flinched, pulled back a hand that had unconsciously been reaching towards her. "You're the guy who doesn't even finish his champagne at a New Year's party, but we break up, you go to a bar, you get hammered, and—what, you went home with a stranger?!"

Iwaizumi's breath hitched; he thought to lie just a moment too late and Himari latched on to that beat of silence. He could see her lean forward, grasping the edge of the couch and Iwaizumi bit down on his lip when he heard her ask who.

"…It doesn't matter," he mumbled, but she asked again in a louder voice and he took a shaky breath. "Himari, trust me, it's not going to make anything better."

"Then why won't you tell me?" she pressed. "We break up, you sleep with someone, and you won't tell me—"

"How is it going to help you to know who it was?" he asked, barely able to keep himself from snapping as he finally looked over at her. "It's—Himari, it's all my fault. I fucked up, and I'm sorry because I loved you, I really did. I never wanted to hurt you—"

_"Why won't you tell me who it was?"_

"Because there's nothing you can do about it, and it's not like you even know him personally—"

" _Him_?"

Himari stared at him and it took Iwaizumi just a second to know that she'd figured it out. Himari was the one new person in his life who he'd told about Oikawa, mainly because if he was going to date someone, he had wanted everything on the table. He'd given her a very brief summary of what happened, explained that was why he'd been hesitant to date anyone and was grateful when she didn't press for more details.

But she definitely knew who Oikawa Tooru was, even if by name only.

"…Oikawa," Himari breathed. "We break up and the first person you take home is your _ex_ and you don't think I'd want to know that?!"

"Because you're not here for us to get back together, right?!" Iwaizumi couldn't help but retort, the mention of Oikawa igniting every offensive reflex in his nervous system. He clenched his fist and looked away once he realized he was glaring. "You came here for an apology and I'm tryin' to apologize— _don't_ bring in Oikawa, because he has nothing to do with this! It was a freak coincidence that I bumped into him—"

"Sleeping with someone isn't a freak coincidence thing!" she interrupted sharply and despite the annoyance he was feeling, he stood as soon as she did. " _That's_ something you chose to do—you knew it was Oikawa, didn't you? And instead of sobering up or, hell, even calling me when you're drunk and supposedly at your most honest and vulnerable, you take him home! What does that say about you? How do you think that makes _me_ feel?!"

"Himari—"

Iwaizumi's fingers brushed against Himari's wrist but she jerked away from the touch; Iwaizumi's legs tried to move faster than feet that felt made of lead and he nearly tripped over his coffee table as he tried to stop her from leaving. His shin was pulsing with the pain of impact but he ignored it and managed to grab her wrist just before she was at the door, hurried sliding her sandals on and tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"Himari," he tried again, voice pained, "I'm sorry, let me explain—"

He heard the sound before the pain registered; she'd slapped him, but Iwaizumi felt as if something had collided straight-on with his chest, leaving him winded and breathless. He immediately let go of her wrist and stumbled back a few steps, staring at her.

"I'm an adult, so I can handle if you fell out of love with me," he heard, her voice sounding distant as he gingerly raised a hand, fingers brushing over his unnaturally warm cheek as he slowly looked at her. Himari was glaring at him again, the redness and glassiness of her eyes not taking detracting from the intensity of her expression. "It's… not even a dealbreaker that you went back to your ex because from the sounds of it, he was a really important part of your life. But what I _can't_ handle is that I think you're not being fully honest with me. And maybe it's because you're not being honest with yourself first, but that's not my problem anymore. We were in love and that doesn't always work out, but you were my friend first. I at least deserve the respect of _honesty_."

She reached into her pocket and Iwaizumi hardly flinched to feel her throw something small at him; it bounced off and landed on the ground with a high-pitched clinking sound.

"Find me and apologize when you're ready to be an adult, Hajime."

She slammed the door shut behind her and Iwaizumi flinched, hearing various items in his apartment rattling. He wasn't sure how long he'd been frozen in that spot; what brought him out of his trance was feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket. He reached slowly to fish it out, fingers feeling detached from his mind. It was a struggle to press the button to light up his screen and he still felt dazed as he looked at the screen.

**From: Unknown**

_Please bring in Sakusa-san on Tuesday and Friday mornings. If you could make it today, that would be great._

He blinked once and exhaled slowly, realizing it was Oikawa. Iwaizumi furrowed his brow and slipped his phone back into his pocket, heart pounding when he remembered that he'd still need to show up to work and groaned under his breath. He brought both hands up to his face and took a deep breath.

Iwaizumi had always thought he was good at reading people, a skill he had to pick up from spending so much of his life by Oikawa's side, but he was beginning to think otherwise. Regardless of whether or not he did start falling out of love with Himari long before their break-up, he still cared for her deeply as a friend. She was the first person he met who he could feel comfortable around; she'd been a breath of fresh air from the ocean that Oikawa had left him to drown in.

Iwaizumi was about to try and find an ice pack to hide as much of the redness of his cheek as he could when a glinting from the floor caught his eye and he remembered that Himari had thrown something at him just before leaving. Eyes scanning the ground until he found it, his breath hitched as he leaned down to pick it up.

The ring.

* * *

"Thank you for making it."

Oikawa said it to both of them, but didn't even try to hide the fact that he only smiled to Sakusa, just like how he'd only looked at him upon entering. Iwaizumi could tell he was biding his time and did absolutely everything he could to avoid having to look at him, but when he did, he just stared incredulously and Iwaizumi scowled, accidentally turned away in the direction to display his red cheek even more prominently.

He had half a mind to tell Oikawa that he couldn't make it and tell Sakusa to go in if he was able to, but Iwaizumi hadn't even gotten halfway through composing a text to Sakusa when he changed his mind. It wasn't fair to Sakusa to do that and, Iwaizumi begrudgingly realized, it wasn't fair to Oikawa either. If Oikawa could try and be civilized, then the least Iwaizumi could do was the same; after all, after last time, Oikawa currently had the leg up on maturity, which was a first for the two of them.

But now that he was here, it was hard to focus on that when his cheek was throbbing from one ex, and the other ex looking smug about it.

"…Shouldn't you be getting started?" he mumbled, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"…Right," Oikawa said slowly, looking away, clearing his throat. "Sakusa-san, how are you feeling today?"

"Same as last week," he answered honestly with a polite nod. "Do you have an ice pack for Iwaizumi-san? His ex slapped him."

Iwaizumi bristled.

"Sakusa! Nobody asked!"

"Sometimes questions don't need to be voiced."

Iwaizumi had forgotten to try and ice his cheek or even just splash cold water on it before leaving his apartment; he had been so dazed that he hurried to the gym and disregarded his face until calling Sakusa's name announced his presence and suddenly everyone was crowded around him.

_"Are you okay?!"_

_"Bro, what happened? You get hit in the face by a ball?!"_

_"Why would he be hit by a ball when he's not here?!"_

_"Iwaizumi-san, what happened?"_

_"Here, Iwaizumi-san, you can take my hardboiled egg—"_

_"What the fuck, that's for bags under your eyes! Well, actually—"_

Iwaizumi had ushered Sakusa out of the gym as quickly as he could, begrudgingly told him that his ex had slapped him when he asked about it. There was no use in hiding it; Iwaizumi didn't even know how the team knew about his break-up when he hadn't even told Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who most likely found out from Himari. They had a habit of texting her; during their relationship, she had been unofficially indoctrinated into their friend group, and so Iwaizumi thought it reasonable that she would tell them.

As for the rest of the team, he'd guess Yachi told Hinata or Kageyama first, and then it just spread like wildfire because the national team was really just a bunch of kindergarteners with a hell of a spike. Yachi didn't gossip, but he could see her being worried and letting it slip, thinking that maybe the team would be able to talk some sense into Iwaizumi.

The team would only talk sense _out_ of Iwaizumi.

He was regretting telling Sakusa now; Ushijima would have been a better choice, but, unfortunately, Ushijima was not the one injured. The team knowing was fine. _Oikawa_ knowing was not fine.

"If he'd like one, I can get one for him."

"Iwaizumi-san, would you—"

" _No_."

Iwaizumi realized he was watching Oikawa for a moment too long, managing to tear his gaze away before Oikawa could catch him. His cheek felt like it was throbbing extra as soon as Oikawa had stepped into the room; it had to be a mental thing, he thought, even if it seemed appropriate, there was no way that Oikawa's sheer presence could exacerbate all physical and emotional ailments that Iwaizumi was currently undergoing.

"Have you been doing the exercises I've showed you?" Oikawa asked calmly and Sakusa gave a nod, leaning forward at Oikawa's instruction.

"Yes. Iwaizumi-san's been helping me with them."

"Well," Oikawa said airily, pressing one hand to the back of Sakusa's shoulder and other taking his upper arm gently to test his range of motion, "that is his job."

Iwaizumi twitched; he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to calm himself down and cleared his throat. "…Anything I should keep an eye out for?"

Oikawa seemed surprised and Iwaizumi didn't entirely blame him. No matter how much he couldn't handle being in the same room as Oikawa, Iwaizumi felt guilty for letting the way he personally felt get in the way of being there for Sakusa. He had apologized to him afterwards and though Sakusa reassured him that he didn't mind, it didn't make it any better.

It seemed Oikawa had mostly moved past it; it stung at Iwaizumi to think that Oikawa, despite clearly disdaining him, had more or less moved on from something that Iwaizumi hadn't entirely let go yet. Iwaizumi hadn't thought about it specifically, but he'd thought that if he still felt this way, then Oikawa would too.

Maybe he'd meant less to Oikawa than Oikawa had to him.

"Well, you could have kept an eye on him from the start," Oikawa returned and Iwaizumi's breath hitched; he looked away to recover, raising a hand to rub the side of his nose. "Prevention is key, but I suppose you did your best."

Iwaizumi's breath caught in his throat again and he had to physically bite down on his tongue. Sakusa started saying something but Iwaizumi mumbled 'it's fine' and shook his head. His blood was boiling and he was starting to regret ever waking up this morning. "…Yeah. I'll be more careful about that in the future."

"That's great and all," Oikawa answered in the same easy tone, "but that's not going to help much now, is it?"

"Iwaizumi-san's actually—"

"Sakusa, it's fine," Iwaizumi interrupted tiredly, brow furrowed. "Okay. What besides paying better attention to them? You're supposed to be the one figuring out the treatment plans, so tell me how to better help with that when we're not coming in for sessions."

Iwaizumi wasn't sure how to interpret the way Oikawa was looking—glowering?—at him. For a moment, he thought he saw a smirk but then Oikawa's attention was focused on Sakusa again, taking his arm and gently extending it, moving it slowly in a circle. "Well, it's like you said, that's my concern. You could help by improving at your job so fewer people will need to come in, but I supposed not everyone is able to perform at that level, even if it is the basest of expectations."

Finishing one rotation, Oikawa looked over and this time, Iwaizumi was sure he was smirking.

"After all, some people are too self-absorbed to pay attention to anyone else around them, and when they hurt those people, they're too prideful to admit it's their fault. So, you know. We do what we can."

Iwaizumi bit down so hard on his lip that it didn't take long for a metallic tang to spread in his mouth. His eyes darkened and he broke eye contact with Oikawa, struggling to keep his breathing even. He didn't need to wonder if Oikawa had figured it out; he was annoyingly perceptive and smart, and likely figured it out that Iwaizumi was distracted because of their night together. Iwaizumi was lucky that it didn't get worse before he stepped in, but that didn't matter; an injury, even if it wasn't career-ending, was an injury, and it was Iwaizumi's responsibility to be looking out for the members of the team.

The warmth in Iwaizumi's cheek was growing stronger and he pushed himself off the wall, feeling his stomach twisting uncomfortably. "Fine, you've made your point," he snapped. "You've been pretty clear that there's nothing I can do now, so Sakusa, text me if you need somethin'. I'm taking a walk."

Not giving Oikawa a proper chance to answer, Iwaizumi walked out of the room, managing to keep himself from slamming the door shut by reminding himself he was still in a hospital. He veered down the hallway and into a bathroom; immediately grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, he wet it and held it to his cheek, free hand grasping the edge of the sink and closed his eyes. The coolness helped slightly, but when it faded, Iwaizumi chucked the wet paper towel into the trash and yanked the door open, scaring one of the nurses. He apologized gruffly and shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders rounded as he began to walk aimlessly.

He wasn't familiar with the hospital; he only knew how to get from the entrance to the physical therapy room to meet Oikawa. But without an end goal in mind, Iwaizumi was free to wander, turning down hallways at random, glancing at doors only to make sure he was allowed to enter them. Moving about helped; he couldn't stop his mind from thinking about Himari and, consequently, Oikawa, but if he moved, at least he could focus on the sounds of his footsteps and the effort of moving his limbs, the haphazard decisions and last-minute turns.

He didn't know how long it took him and what kind of a convoluted path he took, but Iwaizumi had managed to make his way to a small coffee stand. He fished out some spare change and ordered an iced americano, bringing it over to an empty table with just one chair. Hospital coffee was just about as good as hospital food and even with it being watered down, the bitter taste was at least something for Iwaizumi to taste, replacing the tang of blood that still lingered.

Iwaizumi had convinced himself that what happened with Oikawa was a fluke, and that it didn't mean anything, that it was a result of alcohol and emotion so strong he thought he'd vomit from it.

Iwaizumi knew he'd been in love with Himari; he had once told Oikawa that he wouldn't pretend to feel something for someone, and that was true. The feelings he'd had for Himari were warm and gentle; being with her felt like he was cocooned in something that would shield him from the turbulence of reality. When they started dating, Iwaizumi found himself feeling inclined to do things he never did with Oikawa and in the moments when he couldn't stop himself, wondered if this was what Oikawa meant by him never treating him as more than a friend.

As time passed, that honeymoon phase passed and the sporadic, romantic gestures lessened. He'd still tried to do something every so often, but then when they started getting busier with their careers, there didn't seem to be enough time. The brief pockets that surfaced in one of their schedules were often filled with a meeting or sudden emergency in the other's, leading to one failed date after another. It became harder to be as attentive a boyfriend as he had been early on, and it seemed she understood.

But, he thought, maybe at some point it had been less about making time and more about that he wasn't prioritizing her, as she'd said.

He loved her still, but maybe it wasn't _that_ kind of love. He'd proposed as a way to try and show her how serious he was—he was just busy _now_ , it would get less busy later on—and because in his mind, she'd been the person he was intent on marrying. She made him feel safe and loved, but at some point, that certain _thing_ started fading.

It was the _thing_ that brewed in the pit of his stomach and blossomed in his chest, made every mundane action of theirs into something spectacular. The _thing_ that turned a horrible pun from them into something delightful and innovative, would leave Iwaizumi smiling and in a good mood for hours at just the thought of a fleeting memory. It was something indescribable and something that he didn't think any language had a proper word for, but something the whole world knew.

He loved her, but that _thing_ was gone, and Iwaizumi didn't know when their love wasn't enough anymore.

What had felt like a whirlwind of love tempered to a gentle breeze, whereas the torrential downpour he'd felt for Oikawa had turned into anger that could split the earth. He'd felt invincible with him and useless without, on top of the world with Oikawa by his side and completely invisible without.

Iwaizumi realized that he was in love with Oikawa only after they broke up. They had started dating when Iwaizumi had realized his crush; all he knew was that his feelings weren't platonic, but he didn't realize until by the time they broke up what he felt for him was that overwhelming, all-encompassing love that people wrote entire sagas for. Maybe he hadn't realized because Oikawa was always by his side and he'd taken for granted what so many people spent so long searching for. But once he lost it, it was all he could think about.

He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't breathe; he felt like he couldn't even survive after they broke up, like all the air had been knocked out of him for _months_. His chest felt heavy and empty and lifting his feet seemed like the hardest thing in the world. Iwaizumi had always been Oikawa's pillar, but when they broke up, it left him thinking:

Maybe Oikawa was _his_ pillar.

Before he'd even reached the age of twenty, Iwaizumi had, in a completely objective way, felt like he'd already harbored a lifetime of regret. The only thing he regretted more than not realizing how he felt was not letting Oikawa know. It wasn't even a matter of wanting him back; Iwaizumi hated that their friendship had left off with Oikawa thinking he didn't matter that much to Iwaizumi, when it was the exact opposite: Oikawa meant everything to him. Iwaizumi didn't mind lingering in his regret, but what was a harder pill to swallow was knowing that he was yet another reason why Oikawa never felt like he was enough.

Between the two, Iwaizumi had always been the more levelheaded one. Oikawa believed in the idea of soulmates and was constantly telling Iwaizumi about dramas or manga series that he was reading. Iwaizumi always thought that they were over the top and unrealistic, and then in the midst of the kind of heartbreak he didn't think existed, he realized that that was exactly what he felt for him.

Maybe he'd always felt it and it had been muted. What made the feeling so visceral was knowing he'd lost Oikawa, but Iwaizumi could tell these feelings weren't solely because he'd lost him. Losing Oikawa was like losing his footing of the world and once he lost it, he'd realized what he had this whole time. It was so intensely suffocating to recognize, and he couldn't help but wonder that if he felt this way, how did Oikawa feel?

For the pure sake of survival, he hoped Oikawa didn't love him back the way he realized he did.

Oikawa was a strong person, but he was strong because of how little he allowed himself to feel; when he did feel, it was overwhelming and crippling. Imagining him going through the same heartbreak Iwaizumi felt and being unable to play volleyball—

-the fact that Oikawa had survived at all blew Iwaizumi's mind.

Oikawa's love and passion were purer than anyone else's, Iwaizumi thought. When he loved, he loved hard and with everything he had, and Oikawa loved volleyball so much that the same way Iwaizumi and Oikawa were known to be inseparable, so was Oikawa's identity with volleyball. Iwaizumi wasn't who he was without Oikawa, but he thought that Oikawa wouldn't be who he was without volleyball, and for him to be forced to give up his dream and now be in a profession to help others achieve that exact dream…

Iwaizumi exhaled forcefully.

_He's such a fucking masochist._

But, Iwaizumi begrudgingly thought, there was something admirable in it. He didn't know what Oikawa's intentions were; maybe he wanted to stay close to the sport, or maybe he really _did_ want to prevent anyone else from going through what he did. All he knew was that he didn't know if _he_ could be doing what Oikawa was doing and that, he had to admit, was commendable.

Iwaizumi hated Oikawa, but he could still see that Oikawa Tooru was not an inherently evil person. He was afraid and would hurt others to lessen his own pain as a defense mechanism, but he wasn't a bad person.

"Is that how you do your job? You just walk out?"

Iwaizumi didn't look up; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and brought his drink to his lips. "Fuck off," he mumbled. "You didn't need me there and I've been having a shit day."

But just because Iwaizumi knew Oikawa wasn't a bad person and admired him for what he was doing now didn't mean it erased the paralyzing hurt he'd knowingly caused. Iwaizumi would never forget the way Oikawa had smirked at him the day of the game; it still haunted him even nine years later. He knew Oikawa could be cruel, but maybe he'd just been naïve enough to think that there would be a limit when it came to him.

He couldn't even look at Oikawa without a rise of emotion in him; be it love or hate, everything he felt for him was at an extreme, and it made Iwaizumi sick to his stomach.

He'd always feel everything for Oikawa, but never nothing.

"We're done for the day," Oikawa said in a low voice, standing across from Iwaizumi. "Sakusa-san is waiting in the lobby. Next time, I would appreciate if—"

"Oh, fuck off, Oikawa," Iwaizumi snapped, bringing his drink down suddenly on the table. "You can't stand to be around me. Stop fucking preaching down at me and pretending that it's easy for you to be in the same room as me. You don't want me in your life. You made that really fucking clear before our first game against each other."

Something flickered in Oikawa's eyes at the mention of the game, but it disappeared quickly. Oikawa hummed; he tilted his head upwards slightly and regarded Iwaizumi warily with half-lidded eyes. "You know, Iwaizumi, when I tore my ACL, I couldn't help but think that maybe if we were still friends, you could've stopped it. But I guess I was wrong, because you've been here twice with Sakusa-san now and walked out on him both times. You're really not the person I thought—"

Iwaizumi stood so quickly that his chair clattered to the ground and his empty cup fell over. There were shocked gasps when his left hand shot out to grab Oikawa by his shirt, right hand clenched tightly and pulled back by his ear. Iwaizumi could hear the other patrons start fretting, but he was focused solely on Oikawa, who didn't seem the least bit perturbed; he was smirking viciously, needing absolutely no words to taunt him, eyes glinting.

He and Oikawa had physically fought each other only one time in their entire lives, and it had been in middle school. Their teachers pulled them apart and assigned them to separate detentions for weeks; it was the longest fight they ever had and thinking back, Iwaizumi couldn't even remember what had gotten them so worked up. They were middle schoolers so it was probably a stupid fight, but what stuck out to him the most was that it was the first time Oikawa had made the peace offering.

Iwaizumi had been cleaning up an extra classroom as punishment when the door opened and Oikawa stepped in. He had ignored him and continued to sweep the floor; when he heard the door close after just a few minutes, he couldn't help his curiosity and looked over, wondered why Oikawa would come in just to leave after saying nothing.

That was when he saw the action figure he had wanted to buy for months, a brand new, limited edition version of it placed on a desk. Iwaizumi had been saving up for it, but when his parents learned that he'd gotten in trouble for fighting and that they'd even broken a classroom window, all his savings went towards paying for it.

Remembering the action figure had Iwaizumi faltering; even after all these years, he still had it. It was somewhere in a storage box by this point, but it was a precious memory that he didn't want to get rid of, even after their breakup. Iwaizumi didn't know what Oikawa did with the things he gave him and didn't want to think about him throwing everything out, but if Iwaizumi threw out everything from his childhood that reminded him of Oikawa, he'd have nothing left.

He'd loved Oikawa so much that it seemed impossible to harbor so much love in just one heart; how did they go from that to this?

Biting back a swear, Iwaizumi let his hand drop and shoved Oikawa away. "Fuck off," he snarled. "Of course you'd fucking blame me for that. It's not my fault; _you're_ the one who ended our friendship. I broke up with you, yeah, but I wasn't the one who ended the friendship you claimed was so important to you."

"Claimed?" Oikawa echoed and Iwaizumi was smug to finally elicit a real reaction out of him. "You—"

"Yeah, you kept going on and on about how our friendship was _so_ important, but then you went and dropped it just because we didn't work out romantically," Iwaizumi snapped. "I guess it couldn't have meant that much to you then, huh?"

Oikawa was speechless and Iwaizumi hated that even when he'd actually win a verbal fight against him, he was still the one feeling guilty. Picking up his empty cup, he tossed it into a nearby recycling bin and started to stride past Oikawa to meet Sakusa in the lobby when he felt Oikawa grab his arm.

The touch was fleeting, and yet it burned more than when Himari had slapped him. Iwaizumi's lungs entirely stopped working as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Oikawa, unable to see his face but still able to imagine his every expression at that moment.

"…You can think and say whatever you want about me, Iwaizumi," he heard in a quiet voice, "but I won't let you say that our friendship meant nothing to me. You're right, I can't stand you anymore. But it's not fair to let our past affect Sakusa-san's treatment, or the rest of the team, because I have a feeling this won't be the first and only time you're here."

Iwaizumi's fists clenched at his side, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, mumble, "Fine. Then stop with the fucking jabs."

"Fine," Oikawa answered shortly. "Then you stop walking out. We have to be able to be civil with each other in the same room."

Iwaizumi laughed caustically. "The last time we were in a room together, you gave me a fucking _hickey_ when it was literally the one thing I told you not to do."

"Please," he heard and could imagine the smirk, "I did that all the time, even in high school. Loosen up. See you next time, Iwaizumi."

Oikawa was the first to move and it was only when he was out of the vicinity that Iwaizumi felt he could truly breathe again.

* * *

Oikawa couldn't explain why knowing that Iwaizumi's breakup had been so bad that he'd ended up getting slapped left him so rattled.

It wasn't vindication; he was relieved that he wasn't _that_ awful as to feel happy for a messy breakup for his ex. Oikawa had had an uncomfortable pit in his stomach ever since the night he was at Iwaizumi's; the idea of Iwaizumi having been in a relationship didn't sit well with him and knowing they'd broken up also didn't make him feel any better, so Oikawa was getting very annoyed at his heart.

Despite his own feelings towards Iwaizumi, he never would've thought that Iwaizumi would get dumped. Iwaizumi was a good person; just because he and Oikawa didn't work out didn't change the fact that his personality was honest and true, a rare thing to find nowadays. As he was helping Sakusa through the exercises, he couldn't help but wonder why they'd broken up. His mind raced through every possibility and he couldn't think of any reason that would end with Iwaizumi getting slapped.

Oikawa's relationship dynamic with Iwaizumi was unlike any of his other relationships because of the sheer magnitude of how much he felt for Iwaizumi. He'd never felt that way about anyone else before and when the possibility of romance became reality, it raised Oikawa's expectations of the relationship. It had taken him two months after Iwaizumi's first kiss to work up the nerve to let him know he reciprocated. He went back and forth constantly because while he absolutely wanted to be with Iwaizumi, he didn't know if he could survive losing their friendship, ultimately deciding to take a leap of faith.

But right as he'd pushed off from the ledge, he'd realized what a bad idea it was, and already knew even before he started free falling.

Closing his eyes, he let his head tilt forward and rested his forehead against his interlaced fingers, elbow on the armrest of his chair. After Iwaizumi had left, Oikawa had a few more appointments and then retired to the lounge to do some more research. However, every time he tried to read about recent developments in best treatment practices, his mind would drift to Iwaizumi.

_"I guess it couldn't have meant that much to you then, huh?"_

Oikawa flinched when he realized he'd snapped his pencil. Mumbling under his breath, he tossed into a nearby trash can and took a deep breath to try and calm himself. Oikawa could handle a lot of things but being accused of not cherishing their friendship wasn't something he took lightly.

"Hey, Oikawa."

Oikawa raised his head to see Kuroo leaning against the doorframe and took a moment to collect himself. "Tetsu-chan?" he sat up a bit straighter in his chair and frowned. "Did you sneak by security?"

"What?" Kuroo blinked and looked around. "I can be here, can't I?"

"How did you get here?"

"I just walked through some doors."

Oikawa stared at him for a few moments, ultimately shrugging and standing. Oikawa generally had to go through some security measures to reach the lounge he doubled as an office, but decided that Kuroo was just _that_ charming and hospital security wasn't _that_ lacking. "Dinner?"

Kuroo nodded. Oikawa took a moment to gather what he needed and walk out with Kuroo, leading the way out of the hospital, unsure how someone in the promotional division would even know how to navigate the building so well. Kuroo didn't show up very often with no notice, but after today, Oikawa didn't mind some conversation with someone who wouldn't bring up Iwaizumi. He was more than happy to let Kuroo start filling him in on some gossip; Oikawa liked to hear about even the lives of people he didn't really know because anything that would distract from his own life was always welcome.

They turned another corner and reached the main lobby. Oikawa had pulled his phone out to confirm directions to the restaurant when he heard someone call his name; blinking in surprise, he turned around and widened his eyes.

"…Makki?"

_…Shit._

"Hey," Hanamaki said, slowing as he approached them. He was staring at Oikawa like he wasn't sure if he was real and, at this moment, Oikawa couldn't fault him; he was staring at him the same way and could literally _feel_ the questions forming in Kuroo's mind.

_So Iwaizumi didn't tell them._

"You're back in Tokyo?" Hanamaki asked and Oikawa nodded.

"Yeah. I came back a few weeks ago. Sorry for not telling you, I've been… busy."

Oikawa knew Hanamaki incredibly well, so even if their conversation came off as stilted and awkward, the million words flying silently between them weren't. He could tell that as he was quickly taking in Hanamaki's appearance, he was doing the same; they were looking for obvious changes or questionable things and all Oikawa really had was why Hanamaki decided to wear his hair like that.

He caught Hanamaki's gaze lingering on his neck and immediately his lips twitched, realized what he was trying to confirm. Oikawa took a deep breath and offered a smile; as soon as he did, Hanamaki relaxed into a smirk. "Makki, I'll make you a one-time deal, okay? You answer one of my questions and I'll answer one of yours."

"Honestly," Hanamaki added.

"Well, of course."

Hanamaki chuckled under his breath but nodded, crossing his arms and still smirking lazily. "This doesn't get you out of hanging out with me and Matsukawa, but, all right. That sounds fair. You can go first. I need to know how personal your question is to make sure mine's okay."

"You already have one?"

"Yeah, and you're not gonna like it, but it's what you deserve."

Oikawa laughed briefly; he could sense Kuroo's cat eyes on them and had a bad feeling that he could have to deal with his barrage of questions at dinner.

Sucking in his cheeks for a moment, Oikawa tilted his head and leveled his gaze. "Iwaizumi's breakup," he said slowly and watched Hanamaki's eyes widen. "What happened?"

Hanamaki stared at him for a few seconds and groaned, rubbing his face. "Aaah, fuck, he's gonna kill me."

"We made a deal, Makki."

"Yeah, yeah, I forgot you're the devil…" Hanamaki sighed, reaching the same hand up to rub the back of his head. "Fine… they were engaged, actually, but she didn't feel like he was as into the relationship as she was. That's all you're gonna get because if I tell you more, Iwaizumi will literally kill me."

Oikawa barely heard what Hanamaki said after why Iwaizumi's relationship had ended; _engaged_ echoed in his head over and over again and if his stomach hadn't been empty, he had a feeling he would have thrown up. Kuroo's 'you good?' brought him back to reality and Oikawa nodded and kept smiling.

"Thank you, Makki," he answered cheerfully. "Now as promised, you may ask me one question and I promise to answer honestly."

"All right," Hanamaki smirked and crossed his arms again. "Are you the person who gave Iwaizumi that hickey?"

Oikawa was now regretting the hickey that, in his drunken stupor, had seemed like a good idea.

"Yes," he answered succinctly. "He should've covered it up if he didn't want people to see it."

Hanamaki grinned and clicked his tongue. "Nice."

Oikawa laughed. "He's going to kill you for saying that too."

"Whatever, I can take Iwaizumi," Hanamaki said and Oikawa laughed again because they both knew that was a lie. "Anyway, I gotta go, just meeting Matsukawa for dinner—"

"He works here?" Oikawa asked, immediately wondering why he hadn't bumped into him yet.

"Oh, no, it's morgue stuff."

"…"

" _Oh_ right, you don't know. So Matsukawa works in a funeral home—"

"… _Why_?"

"He says it's relaxing," Hanamaki shrugged. "I gotta go—my number's still the same, so text me when you want to hang out, all right?"

Promising to text him, Oikawa watched Hanamaki disappear around a corner and tried to buy himself some time from the next round of inquisitions from Kuroo by hurrying his steps. Unfortunately, Kuroo easily kept up with him; Oikawa wasn't even sure if he'd have time to process the information he received before Kuroo would start demanding answers.

"Iwaizumi? Is that why your knee was all messed up?"

The first question.

"…Not exactly," Oikawa said, trying to maintain a neutral smile but unable to help his lips twitching as he headed towards the doors. "I couldn't, by chance, convince you to not ask me about this? Or offer you the same one question only trade?"

"No, because I have a lot more than one question and I have nothing to offer you."

"…It sounds like you're in a lose-lose situation, and yet you're the one sounding confident…"

Emerging from the revolving doors, Oikawa took a deep breath, lungs filling with the sweet night-time air. Kuroo stopped next to him and Oikawa didn't even look over; now, more than ever, he regretted Kenma not being here because he was certain he could bribe him into distracting Kuroo. Or maybe Kenma would sell Oikawa for stale snacks, but he was desperate enough to take the chance.

"Fine," he said with a sigh, looking over with a tired glare, "but you buy me drinks. That's the only way I'll talk about it."

"Well, of course," Kuroo grinned. "The best answers come after a few drinks."

An hour later, Oikawa was halfway through his second beer, making sure to be drinking water and eating food at the same time. Kuroo called him lame. Oikawa explained that medical advances were seldom made when wasted.

"So you two dated in high school? I always had a feeling."

Oikawa smirked, sinking into the warm buzz as he leaned back into the booth. "You didn't even know us."

"Yeah, but just from the way people talked about you two. It was never just one or the other; you two were inseparable."

Humming, Oikawa leaned forward, resting his chin in a hand and closing his eyes for a moment. "Maybe that was the problem," he mumbled before he could stop himself, opening his eyes and keeping them downcast. "I think my expectations were too high."

"Too high?" Kuroo echoed, taking a sip of his own drink.

Oikawa was taking a moment to gather his thoughts when he saw Kuroo push the beer towards him. He glared lightheartedly, but took a sip anyway. "Tetsu-chan, stop encouraging me. I've only ever had bad memories associated with drinking."

"Ah, don't worry. I was lucky enough to get Kenma, not going to screw that up by hooking up with you."

"How—"

"Oh, that was just a guess. Thanks for confirming it."

Shooting him a more serious glare this time, Oikawa returned to cradling his chin in his hand, exhaling slowly. They'd gone to a nearby izakaya; Kuroo had placed their order a bit ago but with it being a busy night, Oikawa wasn't surprised that their dishes hadn't arrived yet. For now, the edamame was enough and he just hoped the real food would arrive before he'd lose his self-control of pacing himself with the beers, which _did_ arrive quickly.

"…I thought he was my one," Oikawa said finally, feeling his heart fluttering at finally admitting that out loud. He'd never said it to anyone; he thought Iwaizumi knew, and he knew that Matsukawa and Hanamaki knew, so he'd never had to say it. Verbalizing it, breathing it into reality seemed to officialize it and he had to take a moment and lick his lips. "I know I'm young and most people say it's just that, but… when you know, you know."

He dropped his eyes again; he felt warm, and he knew it wasn't because of the beer this time.

When they'd dated, Iwaizumi kept saying that he liked him, that he _liked_ Oikawa. And Oikawa used that phrasing as well, but that played down his feelings to the point where it almost felt like a lie, because Oikawa had been head over heels in love with Iwaizumi for years by that point.

Matsukawa told him it was obvious. Hanamaki said it was embarrassing to watch. Oikawa ignored them; until Iwaizumi had kissed him, he thought that he would be fine with being only friends, but when the possibility of being more became something that wasn't just in his head, Oikawa couldn't stop thinking about it.

Iwaizumi had confessed first, and Oikawa didn't want to unnerve him with the potency of his feelings. When Iwaizumi asked him how he thought of all the things he said, Oikawa tried to not let it affect him too much; Iwaizumi was never as good with words as he was, and just because he wasn't one to say things that belonged in movie scripts or song lyrics didn't mean that what he felt wasn't real.

Maybe it was Oikawa's fault. He knew that Iwaizumi didn't owe him anything; he'd been beyond happy to know that Iwaizumi returned just a fraction of his feelings and had hoped that maybe over time, what he felt would be on par with Oikawa's feelings. In a way, he thought, he had been setting himself up for failure; Iwaizumi asked why liking each other wasn't enough, and Oikawa wanted to tell him because he didn't just _like_ him, he loved him so much that it was horrifyingly embarrassing. He loved him so much that he'd do absolutely anything for him and feeling that way for someone who repeatedly kept saying just _I like you_ was just a little bit heart-shattering. He'd do anything for Iwaizumi, surrender himself if it meant protecting him.

So it wasn't a matter of Iwaizumi not being good with words, or not spending enough time with him, or not being a good boyfriend—he was fine as a boyfriend, especially for his first relationship, but Oikawa loved someone who just liked him back and so for all eight months of their relationship, his heart broke a bit more every single day, until there was nothing left to break—and then Iwaizumi shattered it.

"…Did he know?" Kuroo asked quietly.

Oikawa gave a lopsided smile and a weak shrug. "…I thought he did," he mumbled. "But maybe he didn't. He's not the type of person to hurt you on purpose, but I found it hard that someone who knows me so well… couldn't tell that what I felt was so much more intense than what he felt. I know I set myself up, but… he was my best friend. I thought that if we ever dated, that would be it."

Oikawa laughed briefly, taking another sip of his beer. "Ah, of course you'd know, you're living that, aren't you?"

Kuroo smiled, but Oikawa looked away because he hated being sympathized. "Sorry. I'm probably not the best drinking buddy for this."

"You're really not, but you're paying, so it's fine."

He heard a laugh and a few moments later, another beer was set down in front of him. Oikawa finished his second and centered the third on the coaster as he swallowed, licking his lips afterwards. He hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it, but Iwaizumi had been his first love and, he'd always thought, his true love. He was a romantic; he believed everyone had a soulmate, and he truly believed that Iwaizumi was his. He'd had brief flings after him, but nothing close to what he had with Iwaizumi.

It wasn't a matter of not being willing to open his heart again; it was that nobody he ever met made him feel even an inkling of the way that Iwaizumi did. And knowing that Iwaizumi had found someone he wanted to marry—

"Whoa whoa, Oikawa—stop, I think you're going to break the glass for real."

Jolting when he heard Kuroo's voice and feeling him pry his hand off the glass, Oikawa mumbled an apology. He stared at his trembling hand and cleared his throat, nodding when he heard Kuroo ask if he was okay. "…He was my best friend," Oikawa said quietly. "Our friendship meant everything to me and I thought it meant everything to him too, so—"

He swallowed thickly. "…Why would he risk that for just… a high school relationship? If that's all it was to him? Did he not even care for me that much as a friend?"

"I didn't know you two in high school," Kuroo replied in an easy voice, "but from what I've heard… you two were close and from what I know of Iwaizumi… he's a good guy. I'm not tryin' to take sides here, but… maybe it was just timing."

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. "Timing? It's—"

"No, no, hear me out. Right people, wrong time. It's a real thing," Kuroo said, bringing his beer to his lips. "You and Iwaizumi could be meant for each other, the stars just said 'nah, not yet.'"

"Stars don't talk, Tetsu-chan."

Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest again and was leaning a shoulder against the wall, half lidded eyes staring at the carbonation in his beer. "…Even if it's timing, there's no hope now," he said, shaking his head again. "You should see the way he looks at me, Tetsu-chan… he absolutely hates me."

"You think that maybe it's because of how you're treating him?"

"Iwaizumi's not like that. He—"

"He lost you just as much as you lost him," Kuroo interrupted and Oikawa blinked. "Let's just assume that he was crushing on you and you loved him. So yeah, you lost the love of your life. But he lost his best friend, you know? That hurts. You lost yours too, so, okay, even if your pain is technically worse… does that mean his wasn't bad?"

Kuroo shrugged just as their dishes finally arrived.

"And, again… it was high school. A lot can change since then. Who knows? You both could've grown up and changed how you see love and dating. Maybe it'll work this time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people on twitter were watching me have a lowkey meltdown because i hadn't realized i made iwa so hateable rip... please... let me fix it... over the course of the next several chapters...
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments appreciated always ♡


	5. it would've been you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i’m just sayin’. i don’t think you really hate him, iwaizumi, even if you’ve tried to convince yourself of that for a decade.”

_"So we're dating now? Me and Iwa-chan? Iwa-chan and me?"_

_"Shut up, before I dump you."_

_Iwaizumi grunted at the new weight pressed to the back of his shoulders; making no move to push him off, Iwaizumi didn't take his eyes off the game as he scooted forward on the floor, giving Oikawa the space he needed to slip between him and the couch. Oikawa's legs splayed on either side of him and he readjusted his arms, wrapping them around Iwaizumi's chest under his arms. He felt Oikawa's sharp chin dig lightly into his shoulder; he squirmed when Oikawa moved it closer to the junction of his neck and expected a laugh to fan over his ear or some kind of tease. Instead, all he felt was the absence of that pointed pressure and a cheek pressed to the back of his shoulder._

_At that, Iwaizumi frowned and leaned back into him. "You okay?" he asked, hitting pause and glancing over his shoulder for a moment._

_Oikawa hummed. His grip tightened. "…Iwa-chan likes me, right?"_

_Iwaizumi's breath caught in his throat; it suddenly became a little hard to breathe, and it wasn't because of Oikawa's arms over his chest. His hand had jerked and he'd accidentally unpaused his game; Iwaizumi swore as he struggled to not die in the middle of the boss battle and find a better moment to pause again. Oikawa didn't move, but Iwaizumi could tell he was watching and when he felt one of Oikawa's fingers lazily drag over his ribs, he jerked, this time dying. He clicked his tongue but set the controller down in his lap. "What's with that question?" he grumbled, feeling his cheeks warm. "Yeah, I do. Otherwise I wouldn't have kissed you."_

_It was hard to look at Oikawa from this angle, but Iwaizumi tried to without tearing any muscles in his neck. It took Oikawa a moment but eventually Iwaizumi could barely just see him peering back at Iwaizumi, smiling shyly. "…Good," he said quietly and hugged him again, this time tight enough to make it a little hard to breathe. He didn't argue it though, and when Oikawa buried his face in Iwaizumi's back between his shoulder blades, Iwaizumi blushed again. He'd always been clingy, but when they officially started dating, Oikawa had become a human koala bear; Iwaizumi didn't mind—he liked it for the most part, actually—it just flustered him every time._

_He went back to playing until he felt Oikawa shifting and frowned; he'd moved to rest his cheek on Iwaizumi's shoulder and could feel his lips moving against his neck. He'd thought at first that they were peppered kisses, but then he realized he was saying something and paused his game again. "Ha? You sayin' something?"_

_Oikawa paused._

_"…What does Iwa-chan think dating someone is like?"_

_What he mouthed against his neck was much shorter than that, but Iwaizumi didn't try to fight him. "Well…" he frowned and shrugged gently to not disturb Oikawa too much. "…I always thought the best relationships were the ones with a strong friendship, right? So… I don't know. I'm not expecting things to change a lot. Are you?"_

_Oikawa was silent for a while and this time he knew that Oikawa was definitely just leaving a kiss to his neck, though the hot breath that followed had him squirming. Oikawa laughed at his reaction and when Iwaizumi felt another kiss to his cheek. His entire face turned red and he had to bring a hand up to cover his face. "Fucking…"_

_"…Iwa-chan's really cute."_

"Hey Iwaizumi, you wanna tell me something?"

Iwaizumi faltered in his steps and wondered if it was too late to leave.

It was now Saturday; a couple more physical therapy sessions had passed and each one seemed to be considerably better than the last. Iwaizumi and Oikawa still couldn't stand each other, and Iwaizumi thought it was safe to assume that Oikawa's blood boiled as much as his, but the asshole did have a point; Iwaizumi was there for Sakusa and if Oikawa was willing to tolerate being in the same room with him, it was the least Iwaizumi could do. The part of Iwaizumi's brain that wasn't inundated with fury recognized how far Oikawa seemed to have come in terms of maturity; nine years was a long time, and yet the growth was remarkable, left Iwaizumi wondering if now _he_ was the immature, shallow, petty one.

Then Oikawa would make another sly, underhanded comment and Iwaizumi would see inklings of the Oikawa he'd always known beneath the pretty façade.

Hanamaki had invited him over to hang out at his place and, figuring it would be a good way to relax, Iwaizumi had agreed. But he had only stepped out of one shoe when Hanamaki had launched into the beginnings of what Iwaizumi could only assume was a vicious inquiry. Glancing at Matsukawa to see if he could provide any answers, Iwaizumi was met with an impassive, untelling stare and a very slow blink that made Iwaizumi's stomach drop more.

It was one thing when Hanamaki had questions; it was another when Matsukawa was clearly in on the scheme as well.

"…Not that I can recall," Iwaizumi said slowly, reaching into the plastic bag he'd brought with him and setting a pack of beer on the table. He hoped that it would buy him forgiveness for what he'd apparently done; they both took one, which was a good sign.

Hanamaki gave him a once-over, opening his beer expertly; he was purposely dragging out taking his first sip and Iwaizumi was losing his patience and had half a mind to smack it out of his hand. Matsukawa was being quiet as ever, but at least he wasn't watching Iwaizumi the way Hanamaki was. He seemed to have already gotten bored and had reverted his gaze to the television, long legs draped over the armrest.

Hanamaki gave a satisfied sigh at last.

"I bumped into Oikawa at the hospital."

_Fuck._

Hanamaki looked at him again, this time smirking airily. He brought a foot up on the couch so that his forearm could rest on his knee, holding the can languidly with three fingers. Tilting his head, he surveyed Iwaizumi, who hoped he was doing a good job at remaining impassive. "And he's the one who gave you the hickey? So… just someone at the bar, huh?"

**_Fuck._ **

Iwaizumi stiffened; he glanced at Matsukawa, who reverted his gaze back from the television to give him the same blank stare, so he assumed Hanamaki had told him. Swearing, he stepped over the table to take a seat on the couch, reaching over for a beer and tried to think of how to buy himself time or evade the topic all together.

After taking five seconds, he realized the effort would be for naught. Iwaizumi was considering just being honest, when a thought struck him. He paused and narrowed his eyes, looking at Hanamaki. "…Wait, he _told_ you? Just like that? Why the fuck would he do that?"

Hanamaki stared at him.

"…"

"…"

Hanamaki cleared his throat.

"We played that game where we each get one question."

Iwaizumi's scowl deepened; the can of beer in his hand now had dents tainting its previously smooth surface and he could see Hanamaki's eyes dart towards it. The throne Hanamaki had clambered on top of was faltering, Iwaizumi could tell as his glare hardened and Hanamaki fidgeted, clearing his throat. "…Well," he continued, "of all the things he could've asked, it honestly wasn't even that bad. He didn't ask about you and him, if that helps."

Iwaizumi's grip relaxed after a moment and he gave a curt nod. He exhaled sharply. "…Okay. I guess that's true."

"He asked about you and Himari, though."

" _What?!_ "

Hanamaki ducked, bending his body over the armrest, and Iwaizumi wasn't sure if he thought he was going to throw his beer at him or if he'd just expected a punch. Scowl deepening, Iwaizumi tossed the slightly dented but unopened beer on the couch and stood, grabbing his coat. "Jesus Christ—I'm leaving. Fuck you, Hanamaki—"

"Wait—" Hanamaki managed to grab Iwaizumi by the hem of his shirt just before he was out of reach, grip tight. Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder to glare; in the moment he paused, Hanamaki used it to his advantage by grabbing more of his shirt as Matsukawa stealthily moved to physically block him from the door. "Okay, okay, I knew you'd be mad. But," he held up his other hand to stop Iwaizumi from interrupting, "come on, Iwaizumi. It's been nine years and you still won't tell us why you two went from best friends to mortal enemies. You don't owe us your personal business, we get that, but at the same time… he was our friend too."

It took a moment but, Iwaizumi had to admit, he had a point. If Matsukawa hadn't been standing in front of him, looking like he was ready to tackle Iwaizumi to the ground if needed, he probably would have forced Hanamaki's grip loose and left.

Iwaizumi Hajime was generally a rational person when it came to anything and anyone besides Oikawa Tooru; he didn't know if it was because of his base personality or because he'd spent years being Oikawa's friend, but he had an ability more so than most to consider things from another perspective. When Oikawa was upset, Iwaizumi would always consider things from his point of view; did Oikawa actually have a point this time, or was Iwaizumi justified in his anger? It was usually the latter, but there were times it would be the former, and Iwaizumi would feel guilty because no matter how many times Oikawa pissed him off, he'd never wanted to hurt him back.

When Hanamaki told him that he'd had to trade information about him and Himari, his vision had instantly exploded in white; he was absolutely livid that Hanamaki would trade his personal information with someone he _knew_ Iwaizumi didn't want knowing his private business. But, he realized as his heart started returning to normal, this could've been avoided if Iwaizumi had been honest with them from the start.

Hanamaki was right; Iwaizumi didn't owe anyone any information about himself, either now about who gave him hickeys and back then, why he'd just stopped talking to Oikawa.

But they were friends; the four of them had been so immensely close, the type of friendship that Iwaizumi thought would last for life. He'd never taken a moment to appreciate what they must've gone through to try and appease both of them while not pushing too hard to get them to talk to each other; they'd been incredibly patient and understanding this whole time, and Iwaizumi had never given a proper explanation for what things were happening as they were.

Iwaizumi scoffed, but it was quiet; Matsukawa waited until Iwaizumi finally turned and resumed his place on the couch with a sigh. "I'm still fucking pissed at you," he grumbled and Hanamaki gave a rueful smile and a nod.

"That's fair."

Matsukawa had opted for the floor this time, going back to some game Hanamaki had bought him a few weeks ago, leaving Iwaizumi with the whole sofa. It instantly made him remember when the four would hang out in high school and Oikawa would always, _always_ sit next to him on the couch. Even before they started dating, some part of their body would be touching. Remembering that left Iwaizumi feeling cold.

Picking up the dented beer, Iwaizumi stared at it for a second before pulling the tab. It immediately started to bubble over; bringing it to his lips, he managed to keep more than a few drops from spilling. Once the fizz died down, he opened it fully and took a proper swig, his following sigh not entirely of satisfaction. Iwaizumi focused on the carbonation stinging in his throat for a moment and then the slightly bitter taste he'd never appreciated and sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.

"The day I went to his campus for the game, I saw him making out with someone."

There was a sudden loud sound of lasers and Matsukawa mumbled 'sorry.'

Hanamaki glared at him and Matsukawa muted the game. "…Okay," he said slowly, turning back to Iwaizumi. "That sucks, but… I gotta say, that sounds perfectly reasonable for him to be doing."

"Not something that seems like it would render him dead to you," Matsukawa added.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi agreed quietly, "…I know." Oikawa had dated a few people before they had tried, and Iwaizumi had walked in on him more than once, but even so, he'd been more exasperated than anything. It wasn't until a few months before he realized he had feelings for him that he'd feel jealous; it had taken Iwaizumi embarrassingly long to realize _why_ he'd be jealous of Oikawa being with someone else, but it had been a shattered glass ceiling sort of realization and he found himself wondering just how long he'd been feeling the jealousy.

However, seeing Oikawa kissing that girl didn't just make Iwaizumi feel jealous; he felt a searing pain in the pit of his stomach that seemed strong enough to make him double over. Oikawa had gone through a space phase when he was younger (that had stretched through high school, and Iwaizumi had no idea if it persevered afterwards) and so Iwaizumi had a plethora of assorted facts that didn't come in handy, but at that moment, he remembered when Oikawa had made him go down a rabbit hole of reading about the Vredefort crater. It was located in South Africa and 145 kilometers across, but at that moment, it felt like it had formed right in the middle of his chest.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and took another sip of the beer. "It wasn't that he was with someone else," Iwaizumi grumbled, staring at the opening of the can. "…It was the way he looked at me after. I didn't realize it was him, so I apologized for walking in on them and when he looked at me…"

Iwaizumi's words tapered off and he clenched his free fist. "…He looked at me like I meant nothing to him."

Hurt was an understatement. Iwaizumi hadn't had high hopes for his meeting with Oikawa, but he had been mentally prepared for at least an uncomfortable conversation that he'd have to force himself through. He hadn't let Oikawa's lack of a response to his text put him off; this was Oikawa, he could probably ignore Iwaizumi forever if he was hurt enough and Iwaizumi would have to be the one to reach out.

But the way that Oikawa was looking at him told Iwaizumi something that he hadn't considered, that even before he'd realized it, he'd lost what he thought was a part of his very identity.

Oikawa didn't have a great personality; he probably had more bad traits than good ones, but his good ones had been _so good_ that they outweighed everything else. But this, right now, the arrogance, the smugness, the way he looked down on Iwaizumi left him thinking that maybe he didn't know the extent of Oikawa's cruelty after all. Or maybe Oikawa was crueler than he'd ever been because Iwaizumi had hurt him more than everything else he'd experienced put together so, in retribution, Oikawa was going to hurtle absolutely everything he had at him, and then some.

Iwaizumi had seen Oikawa at every point on the spectrum of human emotions, and he'd quickly learned how to temper Oikawa's outbursts. But the way Oikawa looked at him wasn't a temper tantrum; it was legitimate hate and Iwaizumi felt like he'd been gutted.

It hurt more because he still cared for him and missed him so badly that he'd forced himself to swallow his pride and reach out. Iwaizumi hated letting Oikawa get away with things, but this time he'd been ready for that because that's how badly he wanted Oikawa back in his life. As years passed, Iwaizumi could still see that expression in his mind so clearly; he'd had his own moments of doubt, like whether he was worthy of being Seijoh's ace, but Oikawa had always been there to reassure him and make sure he was never too down and hard on himself for too long.

The way Oikawa looked at him made him feel like he was less than one of his fangirls, like he wasn't worthy for Oikawa to even speak to. Iwaizumi had never minded being in Oikawa's shadow, but at that moment, he felt like Oikawa was erasing him from his existence.

And then seeing him again, hearing _Iwaizumi_ fall from his lips with no hesitation reopened a wound that Iwaizumi had convinced he'd healed.

"It hurt," he grumbled quietly. "I'd gone there, hoping to at least reconcile our friendship, but the way he was looking at me made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. He didn't even want to try to save our friendship, so…"

Iwaizumi bit down on the inside of his cheek.

"…So if he didn't give a shit about me, then I decided to stop caring about him."

Digging his nails into his palms helped; the visceral feeling of pain dulled the ache in his chest that crested whenever he thought about that. He couldn't help the memory from surfacing, but he'd done everything he could do actively not think about it. Iwaizumi knew that repressing feelings only led to volcanic eruptions later on; he'd allow his heart to ache because if there was only a finite amount of pain, he'd rather it spread out in manageable levels than absolutely devastate and cripple him.

At the time, he wasn't sure if it was finite.

Even now, he wasn't sure.

Relaxing his fist before he drew blood, Iwaizumi took another sip of his beer and watched Matsukawa play for a few moments, blinking impassively as he watched him defeat some mushrooms, lasers silently slicing through them.

Hanamaki stretched and readjusted his position, also watching the television. He was silent for several moments and Iwaizumi's words hung in balance between the three of them, left him feeling awkwardly vulnerable. "Iwaizumi," Hanamaki finally said in a plain voice, "we're on your side. We're your friends. And we are also very familiar with how much of a dick Oikawa can be, whether he realizes or not."

Matsukawa bobbed his head up and down a few times.

Iwaizumi smiled briefly. "Thanks."

"But," Hanamaki continued as Iwaizumi raised the beer to take another sip, "we're also kind of on Oikawa's side."

He coughed, sputtering beer everywhere; Matsukawa looked at the droplets on the coffee table with a vague expression of disgust, wrinkling his nose and physically moving a bit further away. Iwaizumi reverted his gaze to Hanamaki accusingly, back of his hand wiping his mouth. "What?! You just said-"

"I know what I said, but it's Oikawa," Hanamaki said.

"So?!"

"It's _Oikawa_ ," Matsukawa said this time, voice tensing as he starts fighting a particularly large mushroom. "You know him better than anyone, Iwaizumi. He lashes out when he's upset and refuses to admit he's hurt. It's self-preservation."

Iwaizumi hesitated, but then bit, "That doesn't excuse it."

"Of course not," Hanamaki said, pausing to say 'nice' when Matsukawa defeated what Iwaizumi assumed was the Mushroom King of sorts. "But… okay, think about how badly you were hurt. And think about what you said and how you talk about him now—you don't think Oikawa would be hurt by that? Now, remember that _you're_ the emotionally mature and resilient one."

He shrugged and Iwaizumi's chest tightened.

"You're usually the one who can process pain and anger well; Oikawa never could. Now the hurt that made you act how you did… imagine Oikawa going through that. We're not excusing him, but if we're going with that, then we also have to hold you accountable. Just think about it from his perspective. Oikawa wasn't looking down on you because he doesn't respect you anymore. He was keeping himself together the only way he knew how. You were both hurt, if you're going to be pissed at him, then remember that he's pissed at you too. He's not cruel for no reason."

Iwaizumi focused his gaze on the tab of the can and traced the curve with his finger. He pressed his finger to the hole and pulled back to see the red indent in his finger slowly start disappearing and swallowed thickly. He could feel the anger that had exploded in his chest fade faster than the carbonation in the beer; Iwaizumi had an explosive temper but, akin to fireworks and eruptions, it was instantaneous and ephemeral. Anger was quick to rise and quick to pass, and what Iwaizumi was left with was a hollow aching right behind his sternum.

Once Hanamaki said it, it became so obvious and clear.

Iwaizumi knew Oikawa better than anyone, but that wasn't to say their other two friends didn't know him well. Iwaizumi could pick up on the nuances of Oikawa's behavior that other people couldn't, but when Oikawa was truly upset, it didn't take someone of Iwaizumi's caliber to understand why Oikawa was acting the way he was.

Iwaizumi had lost his best friend, but Oikawa did too. Iwaizumi had been so engrossed in his own pain that he'd neglected that; he'd known as a fact that Oikawa was also hurting, but consciously connected it as the reason for his subsequent actions. He'd spent eighteen years with Oikawa and he'd forgotten the basest thing about him:

Everything was a façade.

"…Fine," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead and swallowing thickly. "He blames me for his knee though. That's… not fair."

"Misplaced blame," Hanamaki answered immediately and easily, shaking his head. "He's just using you as a scapegoat. It's easier to just pile everything onto you."

Iwaizumi nodded numbly and it took a few moments for Hanamaki's words to sink in. He looked up with a start and stared at him. "…I didn't even tell you about his knee. You knew?"

"Everybody knew, Iwaizumi," Matsukawa answered this time, to save Hanamaki from another one of Iwaizumi's fits of rage. He glanced over his shoulder at him. "Not all the details, but we knew why he dropped out. We… thought you did too, so we didn't bring it up."

Iwaizumi said nothing. His beer was half empty and as he pressed at the aluminum in the top half, he could hear it clink as it dented and sprung back in place. His frown deepened; he'd always thought that while Oikawa could be entirely self-absorbed, he was less so. But he was starting to think otherwise; everything Hanamaki and Matsukawa said were so obvious, how did he miss it?

Had he really been so wrapped up in his own hurt that he completely forgot to think about things from Oikawa's point of view? There were times in middle school where when Oikawa would ignore him because they were fighting, Iwaizumi would then go to his door and wait in his room until he came home; Iwaizumi never took no for an answer if he thought that leaving Oikawa alone would allow him to spiral into self-destructive tendencies, and when that had never been truer, Iwaizumi had all but disappeared from his life.

For almost two decades, he had put what Oikawa needed and wanted above his own basest desires and the one time he didn't, it seemed to be the worst time.

"Well," he muttered, leaning back against the couch and rounding his shoulders, "fuck."

"I mean, don't entirely blame yourself," Hanamaki said and Iwaizumi's frown deepened—since when did Hanamaki become so perspective? "This wasn't one of those break-ups where just one of you messed up. You both had fault in it; that's why it's so messy, you know? It's not your job to be looking after Oikawa, especially when you were hurting, but I know you still care about him, even if you won't admit it. He did hurtful things, but since it's Oikawa, you have to look at the whole picture. He's not cruel without reason, especially not to you."

Flicking the tab, Iwaizumi was still frowning. He was still angry with Oikawa; if he thought back to any of Sakusa's sessions, Iwaizumi would feel his chest start to clench. However, it felt much more muted than before; he was upset, of course, but it was hard to be truly, wholly, entirely angry with Oikawa when Iwaizumi realized why he was acting how he did.

"Can we say one more thing?"

"You're not done emotionally eviscerating me?"

"Just our two cents—"

"You keep saying 'our' and 'we.' Did you and Matsukawa pre-plan this whole conversation before I got here?"

"We're basically the same person," Matsukawa offered and Hanamaki nodded lazily. "You should know that by now, Iwaizumi."

Iwaizumi really hated his friends sometimes. Giving one final flick and hardly flinching when the tab flew off of the can and joining a likely growing colony on the carpet, Iwaizumi finished the rest of the beer and crushed the empty can, swallowing and sighing afterwards. "…Go ahead."

"Your breakup itself… like I said, we're your friends, so we're on your side. But we're also Oikawa's friends, so we're on his side."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi mumbled.

Matsukawa sighed. He set the controller down in his lap and glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with Iwaizumi.

"…We're a little more on Oikawa's side on that. And, one more thing—"

"For fuck's sake—"

"Everything you said, I never heard an actual reason for why you hate him," Hanamaki said, smirking and tilting his head. "It sounds like you're just angry at how much he hurt you."

Iwaizumi bristled. "So?!"

He shrugged and looked back to the television.

"I'm just sayin'. I don't think you really hate him, Iwaizumi, even if you've tried to convince yourself of that for a decade."

* * *

_"These… are for me?"_

_In retrospect, this was a terrible, horrible idea, and it was all Matsukawa's fault._

_Valentine's Day had arrived and while Iwaizumi had received a few chocolates, it was nothing compared to what Oikawa received every year. He hadn't even planned on giving him anything; what would be the point, he grumbled to Matsukawa, it's not like Oikawa actually expected him to do that, and anything he gave wouldn't measure up to whatever grandiose present his fanclub was preparing for him._

_"Yeah," Matsukawa had said, "but you're the one dating him. You have to at least do something, Iwaizumi."_

_And so Iwaizumi found himself staying up to four in the morning making chocolates for his absolute dumbass of a boyfriend._

_"You… you made me chocolates?"_

_"N-no," Iwaizumi stammered, bringing a hand up and tugging at his right ear. "Th-th-they're, uh, my aunt made extras... the store-fuck-"_

_Iwaizumi wasn't much of a baker and this fact of life was only exacerbated through this chocolate making exercise. His aunt did help; that was the only tangent of truth to an otherwise obvious lie, but once he told her it was for Oikawa, she had disappeared, explained that he needed to make them from the heart all by himself._

_Iwaizumi swore he followed the three recipes he had pulled up exactly, even rewatched the video at least five times throughout the night. And while what he made was edible, they were wonky and misshapen, and edible didn't necessarily mean pleasant to eat. Nevertheless, he had been so tired that he'd thrown them into a box he had bought earlier that day, attempted to tie as fancy a bow he could, and then retired to bed so that he wouldn't accidentally snap and punch Oikawa in the face when presenting them to him._

_He had shown up a bit earlier than usual in front of Oikawa's apartment building; his laser sharp eyes instantly picked up on the box in his hands as soon as he stepped out from the doors._

_Oikawa just stared at him and Iwaizumi didn't like the twitching of his lips he saw. He watched Oikawa's slender fingers pull at the bow expectantly; when it didn't come undone, he murmured 'ah' and readjusted his grip to undo the ribbon and Iwaizumi almost died from embarrassment._

_He couldn't even tie a bow properly._

_"Y-you don't have to eat-"_

_"Iwa-chan made me chocolates," Oikawa interrupted and Iwaizumi watched him take one of the bigger pieces and pop it into his mouth, cheeks pink as he smiled. "Of course I'm going to eat them."_

_Iwaizumi wanted to shake him until he spat it out because that's what he had done when trying one of the truffles; he couldn't understand how Oikawa was actually eating it and still smiling-was he the devil? Was Oikawa actually the devil?_

_"S-stupid… d-don't blame me if you get food poisoning!"_

_"It'll be worth it, since it was from Iwa-chan."_

_Iwaizumi hated that Oikawa was the one presented with chocolates and yet it was Iwaizumi's face that was red for the entire morning._

* * *

Oikawa stopped talking to two of his closest friends because they reminded him too much of Iwaizumi.

They didn't bring him up, but just their presence was the starkest of reminders of Iwaizumi. After all, the four of them had been so close in high school; it would be impossible for Oikawa to ever be able to hang out with Hanamaki and Matsukawa and not look to the empty space wherever they were and expect Iwaizumi to be there.

He'd heard about friends feeling like they had to choose a side when there were breakups within a friend group. Oikawa had a feeling that Matsukawa and Hanamaki were ready to spend the rest of their lives going back and forth, hopping back and forth over a kilometer-wide line that Iwaizumi and Oikawa drew between themselves. He appreciated that he had such loyal friends, but them showing up made him want to rip open his skin so that he could pinpoint the source of absolutely agonizing pain.

In the end, Matsukawa and Hanamaki didn't need to make a choice. Oikawa chose for them.

"Does it hurt more or less than last time?"

"Less."

Oikawa smiled.

"And if I weren't me, and any other person?"

Miya Atsumu glared.

"…Still hurts less, ya ass."

Oikawa had almost memorized Atsumu's file by this point. He didn't normally take such a personal interest in his patients, but he had wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be biased due to his history with his injury and may have overcompensated a little. Miya Atsumu, starting setter of the national team, graduate of Inarizaki High School, commonly known as Japan's best high school setter (which made Oikawa wrinkle his nose.)

He'd torn his ACL and had a successful surgery; his prospect was good and while that made the professional part of Oikawa's brain relieved (it was always easier to work with patients with good news than otherwise), there was a part of his brain that was twisting with jealousy. He'd tried to ignore it as much as he could and purposely had his back to the door when he heard it open, took two more deep breaths before turning with a brilliantly professional smile that belonged on a magazine.

Oikawa had been convinced that Iwaizumi would be with him. If he came with Sakusa, whose injury wasn't that severe, then surely he'd come with Atsumu. When he forced himself to turn and was met with just one person, it was probably the only time in the day where he didn't feel like his entire body was being consumed with envy. It took absolutely everything for Oikawa to keep his composure with Iwaizumi in the room; Atsumu's appointments were thrice a week and didn't overlap with Sakusa's, so the idea of seeing Iwaizumi for the entire work week made Oikawa somewhat irritated, to say the least.

_"Iwaizumi-san isn't with you?" Oikawa asked pleasantly, tilting his head and watching Atsumu come in._

_"Naw."_

Oikawa didn't know Atsumu very well; he couldn't yet bring himself to look up interviews or clips of anyone on the team playing and felt he didn't have to. After all, he wasn't a coach; all the information he needed was in the file he had, and unless there was a good reason to, there wasn't any additional information he could glean from watching old games.

That being said, even if Atsumu had Kageyama's personality, Oikawa would have expected more energy when he walked in. For a professional athlete, he'd think that they would be eager to start on their recovery, especially when their prognosis was as good as Atsumu's. Oikawa had expected so much energy that it was blinding and infuriating.

That was not how Atsumu entered.

He was still on crutches, which Oikawa was glad for; one of his biggest concerns would be for Atsumu to come in guns blazing and straining his knee before they even started. But Oikawa's satisfaction with Atsumu's apparent compliance with doctor's orders was short lived; it was easy to tell, both as a trained professional and a human being, that Atsumu wasn't excited to be here. He didn't know what his normal personality would be like, but the sullen, quiet aura around him didn't seem right, nor did the terse answers.

"Tsumu-chan, I'm not asking to try and expose that you're trying to impress me. I'm asking because I can tell you don't like me, which is okay, but I'm trying to do my job. They won't be happy with me if I take out the starting setter of the national time, you know."

Atsumu glared at him, repeated 'less' again and crossed his arms. Oikawa's gaze lingered for a moment and he rested a hand on his calf, lifting slowly to test his range of motion. Atsumu might be stubborn, but even he couldn't stop a natural reflex to physical pain; Oikawa stopped immediately and gently set his foot down again. "Thank you for your honesty, Tsumu-chan's nervous system."

Seeing Hanamaki wasn't as jarring as Iwaizumi—nothing ever elicited as much of a reaction, positive or negative, as Iwaizumi did—but it still left Oikawa feeling like he'd been winded. Seeing Iwaizumi had brought up anger like their breakup happened yesterday, but seeing Hanamaki brought up nostalgia so strong it almost crippled him. While Iwaizumi was heartbreak and misery, Hanamaki was part of the closest group of friends he'd ever had and some of the happiest memories of his life.

He still hadn't texted him; he didn't see Hanamaki asking Iwaizumi for his new phone number, but knowing him, he'd just show up at the hospital again. Now that he knew he was in Tokyo, there was no escaping him, and it was likely it was just a matter of time until Matsukawa was in the picture. Oikawa harbored no ill will to his former friends, but it felt like decompression sickness and as much as he missed being at the surface, he'd grown accustomed to bearing the pressures of his decisions.

Oikawa tossed and turned for hours the night he bumped into Hanamaki; if it wasn't writhing about the fact that Iwaizumi had been _engaged_ , it was missing his friends, the time in high school before they dated, and his entire life that he cut off in order to avoid Iwaizumi. In high school, Oikawa had felt highs and lows; the breakup had been a new low and everything after that, except his knee, felt like a constant buzzing in the background. The people he'd briefly dated, the people he didn't exactly date but spent a night or two with, the people he'd met all faded from his memory; he could remember some faces and some names, usually not of the same person, but nobody stuck out.

His injury was the event that he could recount precisely, and the _only_ one that he wished he couldn't.

"You're doing fine," Oikawa said, nodding and standing. He could tell that Atsumu was glancing at his knee, but pretended he didn't notice. "Let's try to just take a few steps and use the bars as support. No pretending to fall just so I catch you, okay?" he smiled.

Atsumu glared at him. "…I already kinda hate ya."

"Tsumu-chan, I'll have you know that I am _excellent_."

"Piss off, ya arrogant—"

"Think of it this way," Oikawa interrupted, "you don't like me, right? Don't you want to rub it in my face that you can recover from the same injury that took me out and play?"

Atsumu stared at him and when he scoffed and looked away, Oikawa wondered if his joke was too on the nose.

He'd spent the first few days after receiving Atsumu's file trying to convince himself that he could detach himself emotionally, but it didn't take long for Oikawa to realize that even _his_ compartmentalization couldn't separate personal from professional in this case. All he could do was try his absolute best to not let his personal feelings interfere with treatment; if he was a bigger person, he'd use the anger he felt to motivate him.

However, Oikawa was not a bigger person. He'd never been a big person, let alone a bigg _er_ person. He was Oikawa, petulant and childish, petty and bratty.

But he was Oikawa, who put absolutely everything into whatever he did.

He knew there were people who wouldn't believe that he was doing what he did and Oikawa, being Oikawa, let that spite fuel him. He'd always find a way to surpass expectations and be excellent and nothing would stop him from that; nothing worth having ever came easily and Oikawa, more than anyone, knew that. Thinking about Atsumu in the days leading up to his first session left Oikawa unable to eat, his stomach twisting and chest burning and now that he was physically present in front of him, Oikawa felt lightheaded from how hard he had to force himself to maintain a normal breathing pattern, force a pleasant disposition because this was his _job_ , this was his _choice_ , and this was his new _life_.

Apologizing quietly, Oikawa dropped his eyes. When the doctor told him he couldn't play anymore, Oikawa was immediately hit with all the _what if_ scenarios he hadn't allowed himself to indulge in.

What if he'd just gone to a doctor earlier—would this have been prevented? What if he hadn't pushed himself so hard in his recovery—would that have made a difference? What if he and Iwaizumi hadn't broken up—would Iwaizumi have been there to stop him?

And then that would open up a rabbit hole that left Oikawa suffocating because it was only fitting that when he was suffocating in the worst, most agonizing moments of his life, the universe brought up hypothetical scenarios of the only other time Oikawa really thought he wouldn't survive.

What if he'd been honest with his feelings from the start and wasn't afraid to scare Iwaizumi off? Iwaizumi had always been by his side for everything; would being told that he was head-over-heels in love with him scared him off, when he'd just seemed to have a crush or be infatuated, at the most? Would they have decided against dating then, waited for a better time? Or would knowing that have changed how Iwaizumi felt?

Had they always been doomed from the start, or would there have been a shot for them in another universe?

Or, alternatively, what if they hadn't dated? What if, after Iwaizumi kissed him, Oikawa never brought it up again?

They'd probably have stayed best friends. They would've played each other in college, and, if Iwaizumi still ended up quitting, Oikawa would then make him come to his games. They would hang out with Hanamaki and Matsukawa together, taking turns visiting each other's campuses. With Iwaizumi there, maybe he wouldn't have torn his ACL. Maybe he would even be playing at the national level, or on the international level; who knew? What was to tie Oikawa to Japan? Would he really have wanted to play on the same team as Ushijima?

(The answer was: no.)

The possibilities were endless, and left Oikawa unable to sleep. In a parallel universe, he would have kept his best friend and achieved his dream, so it seemed too cruel that in this universe, he'd lost his best friend, the love of his life, and his dream. Back when he'd still believed in wishes on shooting stars, he'd use every single one on Iwaizumi because he was so sure that Iwaizumi was _the one_. Every wish he made in every possible avenue was spent on Iwaizumi, when Oikawa realized that instead of wishing for him to feel the same way, he should have wished for what he took for granted:

For him to stay.

Losing Iwaizumi hadn't been just losing a boyfriend. It even went beyond losing his best friend; losing Iwaizumi was like losing his footing on the world. Oikawa had never existed in a space without Iwaizumi; their friendship defined who he was, and not having him by his side left him feebly trying to rebuild himself to feel whole again.

The nights where he couldn't stop himself and his thoughts were the ones where he'd be curled up, clutching his blankets to his chest and shaking, gasping for air for what seemed like all night because out of all of the possibilities and combinations, how was it that he managed to choose the absolute worst one?

**From: Unknown**

_we're playing you next week. can we talk?_

Oikawa had deleted the text immediately.

Chemistry had just ended when he received the text, absentmindedly checking it and expecting someone asking for notes or homework help. But when he saw the text, he knew who it was even though he'd deleted Iwaizumi's phone number; Iwaizumi didn't have a very distinct texting style, unlike Oikawa, but it was like how Iwaizumi could seemingly sense when Oikawa was in a room. He just _knew_.

He'd stopped walking in the middle of the path, much to the chagrin of the other students, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from his phone. He'd had absolutely no contact with him for months but now, holding his phone with a text from him, made Iwaizumi feel like such a tangible thing; he'd tried so hard to forget about him, but one short text erased all of those efforts.

Iwaizumi wasn't a past memory. He was alive, breathing, and in the same city; who knew if Oikawa had walked over the exact same places Iwaizumi had when he was running errands in the city, or if they'd been in the same building, but on different floors. This text made it impossible to forget him; this text was proof that he existed and that everything Oikawa felt was visceral, and on the verge of happening again.

Deleting the text didn't help; the image was burned in his mind.

Of course he knew they were playing each other. Oikawa remembered seeing it posted on the bulletin board; it left him dazed for the entire practice because even if on some level he'd known it would happen, he hadn't been ready for it. It was like knowing Iwaizumi was in Tokyo; rationally, he knew, emotionally, he'd pushed off recognizing it.

Halfway through practice, his coach pulled him out and spent fifteen minutes just yelling at him in the hallway because while Oikawa wasn't _bad_ , it was obvious he was distracted.

_"Whatever you're distracted about—leave it off the court. In there, volleyball is your sole focus. You're the setter, you're the backbone of the team. If you can't handle it, if this is too much pressure, tell me; otherwise you're just wasting everybody's time. Am I going to regret having you as a starter?"_

_Oikawa clenched his fist and looked up._

_"No, sir."_

He snapped out of his daze.

That was when Oikawa started putting everything into practicing. He started staying at the gym long after practice was done; a few of his team members stayed as long as they could with him, but they all eventually left, each telling him to not overexert himself. Oikawa used to smile but then he'd just nod or ignore them when they left, take just a few moments to catch his breath before getting ready to practice another serve.

Oikawa was known for practicing a lot in middle school and high school, but he was seldom alone. Iwaizumi would always be in the gym; even if he wasn't practicing anymore, he'd be in the bleachers, there if Oikawa needed help or to be forced home. Oikawa appreciated it sometimes but was usually annoyed; he never liked when Iwaizumi would force him to go home, but whenever he tried to argue with him about it, Iwaizumi was firm.

_"No way. As long as I'm here, you're not going to hurt yourself. I won't let you."_

The practice when he found out they were playing Iwaizumi's school was the first time his knee started to bother him.

"Does your knee hurt too much?" Oikawa asked, tilting his head. Atsumu hadn't moved from his chair; he had winced, but his movement was good, considering when he'd had his surgery.

A torn ACL was never a good thing, but as far as they went, Atsumu's injury ranked on the less severe spectrum. Recovery would still be a nightmare, but at least he would have light at the end of the tunnel. Oikawa didn't even have light; he'd stared down a pitch-dark cavern and decided that if he ran fast and hard enough, he could break through.

He tried to not focus on it, _especially_ with how Atsumu barely seemed like he was willing to try.

Sharp eyes picking up the way Atsumu's fingers were curled around the edge of his chair, Oikawa's gaze relaxed and he took a slow, deep breath. If this had been him in the chair, he thought, he absolutely wouldn't still be sitting. He'd be up at the bars, pushing himself, giving his trainer no choice but to physically pull him off to force him to stop.

He wouldn't just be sitting there, feeling sorry for himself and wasting time. Oikawa felt his hand twitch and busied it with taking his file, opening the folder to read through words he'd memorized weeks ago.

"Well," he said finally, straining to keep his voice even, "I do believe that being mentally ready is every bit as important as being physically ready. Would you like to try again next week?"

Atsumu faltered; it was the first time he looked at Oikawa with no malice. "…Yer sure? It won't… make it worse or anythin'?"

"No, one week won't be the difference between you being able to play or not," Oikawa answered, though he closed the file with a bit too much force. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. The therapy will take months and I can't physically force you to do anything you don't want to. So, if it's what you want, we can try again next week."

If it were Oikawa, he'd say, no, absolutely not, let's start right now so I can get back to training as soon as possible.

Atsumu hesitated and eventually nodded, standing and reaching for his crutches.

"…Right, then. Next week it is."

Oikawa tried to smile, but it felt like the muscles in his face had gone limp. He opted instead for a nod. "See you next week then, Tsumu-chan."

Atsumu nodded and Oikawa headed to the door, holding it open patiently for him. When Atsumu walked past him, he stopped and Oikawa's grip tightened on the door even before he started speaking.

"Ya got any advice for me?" he asked in a subdued voice, hooded eyes focused on him.

Oikawa didn't know how and didn't care to know how Atsumu knew about his injury. His career ended in college, but he wouldn't be surprised if Atsumu heard about it from someone else on the national team who had known about him, may have brought it up in passing because ghosts never faded as long as their memory existed.

Oikawa didn't say anything at first. He switched to keeping the door open with his foot and crossed his arms over his chest, heaving a sigh and closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he was able to smile, but the expression didn't reach his eyes.

"…Don't give up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody is more afraid than i am of spontaneously disappearing and so i have taken every precaution i can think of to ensure completion of this fic, but the one thing i could not control is life itself. missed a week but we are now back on track!!!
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments appreciated greatly ♡


	6. masquerade revelers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…at this rate, you’re just going to break into a million pieces.”

"Oikawa-san!"

At hearing his name, Oikawa looked up from his phone. He'd finally gotten around to texting Hanamaki, mostly because if he didn't, he'd just show up again at the hospital to find him. It was nice to be talking to him again; Oikawa had been the one to cut them out, despite their repeated attempts to get in contact with him before getting the message, but he still missed them. It just so happened that his need to survive outweighed every other emotion he was capable of.

Straightening from leaning against the railing, Oikawa grinned. "Shoyo-kun!"

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Hinata fretted, jogging the last few steps and beaming. "You look great, Oikawa-san!"

"Flirting with me, are you?"

"W-what?! N-no, I'm just—"

"Kidding!" Oikawa sang, waving his hand airily. "Let's go in. It'll even be my treat today, yeah?"

Oikawa wasn't surprised to learn that Hinata was on the national team, given his memories of playing against each other; once it had become impossible to keep living in ignorance, Oikawa had decided that if he would have to be fully submerged in volleyball once again, then at least he could be the one to make the first move to jump. Compared to finding out Iwaizumi was the national trainer, knowing who had made it to the topmost level of volleyball was like being stabbed with a butter knife: annoying, could be painful, but ultimately nothing Oikawa couldn't recover from.

Paying for their drinks and bringing the small coaster with '47' printed on it to a table by the window, Oikawa pretended to not notice the way Hinata was unabashedly staring at him. He knew that it wasn't Iwaizumi who told the team about him; by this point, maybe word had spread. Or, he thought, it was more likely that Sakusa mentioned it and had given Hinata his number because even if Sakusa didn't seem like someone to be giving out people's phone numbers without their explicit permission, Hinata Shoyo posed no threat at all. Of everyone for Sakusa to give his number to, Hinata was the one who would annoy Oikawa the least because, well, it was Hinata Shoyo.

Universally loved.

Hinata's text had interrupted a conversation with Hanamaki that Oikawa was running out of excuses for, and so had happily informed him he had another conversation to tend to instead. Hanamaki kept texting him, but Oikawa just swiped away those notifications, found himself smiling because Hinata texted exactly the way he spoke.

"You didn't tell me you came back! I had to find out from Omi-san!" Hinata pressed, slight whine in his voice. A waitress came by to set their drinks down; Oikawa smiled and she blushed, at which he grinned. Hinata seemed to notice because as soon as she left, he lightly slammed his palms down on the table. "Oikawa-san!"

"Sorry, sorry," Oikawa said and shook his head with a shrug. "Ah, I didn't want people to make a big deal out of it."

"No offense, Oikawa-san, but that doesn't sound like you."

Feigning a pout, Oikawa took a sip of his cappuccino and opted to slant his gaze to the window, focus on the people passing by the large windows of the café. Overwhelmed wasn't the right word for what he was feeling; Oikawa had always been a social butterfly of sorts, so coming back to Tokyo and reconnecting with more people more quickly than he expected wasn't taxing in the sense of his physical or mental energy. He didn't mind grabbing coffee or meals with people he more or less enjoyed spending time with.

What he did mind was that these were all people who both linked back to and reminded him of Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi was so important to Oikawa that he willingly cut off every single tie that would lead back to him. Oikawa had spent the last decade meeting new people, from in his classes to when he'd been traveling around, but he had always kept them at an arm's length and if they tried to close the distance, Oikawa would disappear. After their breakup, it had felt like the world was muted. Colors were dulled, sounds were muffled, tastes were blended, and the air was stagnant. Volleyball was his only pocket of air, until he lost that too and all he could do was sink.

Oikawa was known for feeling things in an extreme way, but despite that reputation, he had been repressing emotions in high school as well. As a captain, he had certain duties and responsibilities to uphold; he'd hold off any onslaught of emotion to try and stay calm and rational and when he could, Iwaizumi would step in for the team and then yell at Oikawa to pull himself together. Iwaizumi had always been his support and even when everything was too much, Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi would be there to hold everything together, including him. It had gotten to the point where Oikawa wondered the downside of that: what would happen if he didn't have Iwaizumi? Would he just absolutely shatter? It was a dependency that Oikawa had never thought about because it had always been something he romanticized so much: _he'll hold me together when I can't, he'll always be there for me, with him then I'm invincible._

But what happened after their breakup wasn't just repressing emotions; it may have been at first, as a defense mechanism, but over time, it felt like something inside him had disappeared completely. That _thing_ that would make his heart race or his eyes light up was gone. Oikawa would smile and laugh, but it had never been the same again; he felt things, but never as much as he used to. Oikawa felt empty on the inside; there was a chasm where both happiness and misery once existed and while this hollowness may have been the only reason Oikawa survived, he certainly didn't feel like he was alive anymore.

He wasn't even feeling fear. He'd accepted the new absence of emotion readily and had thought that a life of feeling nothing extreme and everything temperately was better than the highs and lows he'd gone through because of Iwaizumi. He'd even answered his own question: he _could_ survive without Iwaizumi to hold him together. He could, because he did.

(But maybe just surviving wasn't any sort of way to live life.)

So Oikawa was okay. He was okay and he managed to survive without anybody at his side, because he didn't need anybody. He'd never need anybody again, because he'd given his everything to someone and he'd almost lost everything about himself in the process.

But then he came back to Tokyo after thinking he had everything under control, and the first color he saw in nine years was red.

It took absolutely everything for Oikawa to remain calm around Iwaizumi at work. It was only too tempting to snap back and act the way Iwaizumi was, but, Oikawa thought, he could use Iwaizumi's behavior to his advantage. While Iwaizumi was being petty and small, immature and irresponsible, Oikawa could rise above that. _He_ would now be the levelheaded, responsible one out of the two.

Color exploded in his world again, even if everything had a red tint to it. Oikawa's world had been so muted that when the dampener had been removed, it was overwhelming to experience the world at its fullest again; when he was alone at night in his own apartment, he'd find himself shaking, unable to do anything except wait for the feeling to stop; he wasn't even sure what he was shaking from, or if his body just didn't know how to handle a vortex spinning in his chest.

All Iwaizumi had to do was show up for Oikawa to feel like he was about to lose his mind.

"Oikawa-san, can I ask you something?" Hinata piped up and Oikawa nodded, licking some of the foam off of his lips.

"Of course."

"It's something Omi-san mentioned—"

_Fuck._

"You and Iwaizumi-san—"

"How is he?" Oikawa interrupted and Hinata blinked, mouth still open. "As a trainer, I mean."

"Oh," Hinata grinned and Oikawa managed to smile, glad that his attention had been diverted. "He's great! He yells at us a lot, especially me, but he's really good at making sure we don't get injured or helping us to heal. There have definitely been a few times where he'd stopped me before I hurt myself; I don't know how, but he can tell if we've been practicing too hard. He's really good at it… almost like he's psychic!"

Oikawa hummed, dropped his eyes to his coffee as he wiped away a drop of coffee racing towards the plate. _Well, he should be. He's been practicing that since middle school._

"You're a physiotherapist, aren't you, Oikawa-san?" Hinata asked and Oikawa nodded, taking another sip. "So you two… basically do the same thing, right?"

"Right," Oikawa nodded. "Iwaizumi just focuses on athletes; I don't, but given my experience, I work with athletes who end up coming to the hospital. Iwaizumi's focus is also mostly on an immediate response, and mine is more on the treatment diagnosis."

Hinata was watching him, eyes wide and Oikawa wondered if he really found what he was saying that interesting. Most people wouldn't, especially non-athletes, but innate curiosity and genuine interest was part of Hinata's charm. "So do you and Iwaizumi-san work together a lot?"

Oikawa nodded easily.

"So far it's just been Sakusa-san. Don't go injuring yourself just to be able to see me twice a week, Shoyo-kun," he added with a smile. Hinata laughed after a slight delay and Oikawa's eyes narrowed even before he started speaking again.

"Twice a week? So you see Iwaizumi-san twice a week?"

"…"

"…"

"…Shoyo-kun," Oikawa asked delicately, "what are you trying to get at?"

Oikawa was starting to wonder if Hinata had been sent on a spy mission because, admittedly, out of the whole team, Hinata _would_ be the one around whom Oikawa's guard would be the most relaxed. But would Hinata actually spy on him?

No, but he could _also_ have been manipulated.

Oikawa's eyes narrowed because as ludicrous and farfetched as his logic could sound, it wasn't, not when he considered the mess of a combination of personalities on the national team. Not only had Hinata been silent for far too long, he was growing noticeably more nervous with every passing second. He was playing with his straw and if he kept folding it back and forth, it would end up breaking. What was this mission about? It was highly unlikely that it was sanctioned by Iwaizumi, but if not because of him, why? Was the national team that bored? Were practices that slow?

"Shoyo—"

"Omi-san said you two weren't getting along!" Hinata blurted out and Oikawa blinked in surprise. "I-I asked him if it was stuff like Iwaizumi-san threatening to hit you and you just laughing, but he said that being in the same room as you two was terrifying. Iwaizumi-san actually walks out of the sessions, and that's… that's not like him! If he's doing that, what happened between you two must've been really bad and you're calling him just by his last name now too—"

"Because we're not friends anymore," Oikawa interrupted, drumming his fingers along the table. "As for why, I don't think that's anyone's business. I'd like to offer an apology to Sakusa-san; it's unfortunate that Iwaizumi's lack of professionalism—"

"Well, he says you're kind of scary too, but I said it's because you're you—"

"—is causing him to be uncomfortable," Oikawa continued, twitching at Hinata's addendum. "But—"

"Omi-san's not upset about that," Hinata shook his head and leaned forward, elbows on the table and eyes wide. "I'm worried about you, Oikawa-san! The way Omi-san described you didn't even sound like you!"

Oikawa tilted his head. "Professional and kind?"

"Cold and uncaring to Iwaizumi-san!" Hinata rebutted with a frown. "When you're here with me, you're so nice, and in high school, you were always so successfully flirtatious with girls; it's like you have all of these different personalities, but which is the real one? Are you okay?"

The answer was easy—the real personality was the one around Iwaizumi, always. Even now, the cold and detached personality was the one truest to how he felt, but he couldn't tell Hinata that, not if he wanted any chance of leaving any time soon. Oikawa's eyes closed and he counted backwards from ten before opening them again, gaze lifting to meet Hinata's.

"I'm fine, Shoyo-kun," he said in a low voice, smile a bit strained. "If anything, it's just nerves, you know. I've just started my position here, but already working on players like Sakusa-san—"

"Is it your knee?"

"…"

"…W-we looked it up after Sakusa-san told us," Hinata said in a tiny voice, shrinking back into his chair. He rubbed back of his head, not doing any favors for his already wild hair. "I-I'm really sorry—"

"It's fine," Oikawa interrupted a bit too quickly. "Really. You don't need to worry about me."

Hinata pressed his lips into a thin line and as he watched him, Oikawa felt as though he could actually _see_ his brain turning. Hinata had a very expressive face; it could often be endearing and was part of the reason why Oikawa liked him, but it could easily be his downfall and one of many reasons why Hinata would be very bad at things like poker or spying. He took the opportunity to finish his coffee; by the time he placed the mug back onto the plate, ceramic clinking, Hinata said his name quietly and Oikawa hummed.

"I think I do have to worry about you," Hinata said quietly. When Oikawa looked at him again, his stomach turned; Hinata had only pure intentions, the rational part of his brain knew, but the emotional part, the part that had started firing synapses again at full speed the second he saw Iwaizumi, almost had him standing up and walking out, because if there was one thing Oikawa absolutely could not stand, it was being _pitied_. And the way Hinata was looking at him right now had his blood boiling.

He forced his gaze away, bowed his head and hoped that Hinata wasn't as perceptive of him as someone like Kageyama would be.

"You lost Iwaizumi-san… and you lost volleyball. If I lost Kageyama and volleyball… I don't know how you're holding up, Oikawa-san, but I'm worried. If you need anything… Iwaizumi-san sounds really mad, but I bet if you wanted to talk things out, he'd—"

"Shoyo-kun," Oikawa interrupted this time. He waited until Hinata was looking at him to smile. "Thank you for your concern. However, I'm fine. People can have more than one dream and more than one friend."

Hinata frowned again. "But I don't think Iwaizumi-san was just a friend to you! So that's why I'm worried, because… because you're not supposed to keep everything bottled up, you know? But if you lost the person you'd talk to about all of this…"

"Again," Oikawa interrupted, feeling a growing knot between his shoulder blades as he strained to keep calm, "I'm fine, but thank you for your concern. I appreciate it. Iwaizumi is no longer in my life and I have no intention of ever speaking to him outside of a professional working relationship. Things change, friendships end, relationships end, but we're born alone and we die alone. That's all there is to it."

Oikawa couldn't help but be a bit snappy at the end; he could tell Hinata picked up on it because despite not looking convinced at all, he nodded and pulled back, eyes downcast and lips in a small pout. Oikawa couldn't help the guilt blossoming in his chest as they lapsed into a silence and he licked his lips, bringing his arms across his chest again, pretended that pressure was why it was hard to breathe.

He was trying to figure out how to reroute the conversation because Hinata just happened to be one of the few people that Oikawa wouldn't walk out on when he heard a quiet apology.

"…You're right," Hinata said quietly, offering a small smile, "it's none of my business. We're friends, but that doesn't mean you have to tell me things. I'm sorry, Oikawa-san."

Faltering for a moment, Oikawa shook his head after recollecting himself. "…Don't worry about it," he said and cleared his throat. They fell into another silence, but it felt much lighter and Oikawa took a deep breath, looking back at Hinata with a brighter smile. "So. Tell me about Tobio-chan."

"Huh? Oh, well, he's still mean—"

"No, no," Oikawa shook his head and grinned. "Tell me about him as your boyfriend."

Hinata stared at him for a moment and when his face turned as red as his hair and he started stammering, Oikawa laughed, answered 'it's fairly obvious' to the question that Hinata couldn't quite voice. He groaned and covered his face in his hands and Oikawa took the opportunity to call the waitress over for another cappuccino.

"I want to hear about Tobio-chan as a boyfriend. Come on, Shoyo-kun. Don't let me down."

"…Okay," Hinata said, clearing his throat. "So Kageyama… he's still _really_ mean…"

* * *

_"You went on a date?"_

_"Why do you look so surprised, Makki? Surely you've gone on one too; Mattsun can't be that bad a boyfriend."_

_Matsukawa frowned, clearly not enjoying the way he'd been brought into the conversation when he'd been minding his own business with his lemonade. Hanamaki scoffed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest, crossing an ankle over his opposite knee. "No, I mean, you're dating? Already?"_

_Oikawa shrugged nonchalantly. "She'd just broken up with her boyfriend."_

_"…Did she break up before you or did you—"_

_"Of course she was broken up already when I asked her out, what do you think of me as, Mattsun?!"_

_"We think that you're a guy who doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, so he's throwing himself into rebounds," Hanamaki said and Oikawa huffed, deciding he shouldn't specify that he'd only mentioned his third date that week._

_Oikawa appreciated the loyalty of his friends, but he had tried to put off them visiting as long as he could, telling him that between classes and practice, he really didn't have much time. Then, Hanamaki had said, make time. He told him when he and Matsukawa would be coming, then promptly hung up, leaving Oikawa relatively annoyed for the rest of the day._

_They meant well and Oikawa knew they just wanted to spend time together, but they weren't very good at being subtle. If all they would talk about would be non-Iwaizumi topics, then Oikawa could consider trying to not think of him when he saw them; however, between the friendship the four had in high school and the fact that they kept bringing Iwaizumi up, it became impossible. It was hard for Oikawa to enjoy spending time with them when every ten minutes, he'd see flashes of red._

_An entire summer had passed and they were several weeks into college at this point. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had visited probably more often than other people would and had the situation been normal, Oikawa would have appreciated and enjoyed knowing he occupied so much of their conscious thought._

_"Iwaizumi's not dating," Matsukawa offered, his frown deepening when Hanamaki shoved at his arm._

_"Don't tell him that!"_

_"Why not? It lets him know that Iwaizumi's still available."_

_"It's gonna make it sound like Iwaizumi's just moping around!"_

_Oikawa tried to ignore them, but he hadn't yet been able to train himself to not listen extra attentively whenever Iwaizumi's name came up in conversation. Despite spending years perfecting his gentlemanly smile, Oikawa's cheeks were starting to hurt from how often he'd donned the expression. He didn't know if Iwaizumi had tried to reach out again after the game, but they both knew that if he really wanted to, he could easily physically come to campus and confront Oikawa about it. The fact that he didn't was a loud enough message for the both of them._

_Oikawa hadn't allowed himself to be hurt for too long after the breakup; it quickly turned to searing anger that felt like it had the potential to erase everything else about him. He hadn't seen Iwaizumi but just knowing the type of person he was, he could only imagine that he was holding up better; Iwaizumi was likely processing all of his feelings like any textbook therapist would be recommending, and the thought made Oikawa scoff._

_He hated that while he felt like he was losing sense of who he was, Iwaizumi was more or less fine. And that one moment at the game, that one instance of pain in Iwaizumi's expression was, Oikawa hated to admit, satisfying._ So _, he had wanted to say,_ you do care, after all.

_That was the only time he had proof that Iwaizumi felt at least a little bit of what had struck Oikawa full-force, and just about the only proof that Iwaizumi had actually cared for him as more than a friend._

_"You're acting way too normal," Hanamaki said, shaking his head. "You're not even really acting like yourself, it's like you think if you can just copy happy people's behavior, you'll be happy too."_

_Oikawa wrinkled his nose at Hanamaki. "Is Makki calling me a copycat? I'd prefer chameleon."_

_"Eh, guess that works. Weird reptile whose tail falls off."_

_"I—what?" Oikawa shook his head and waved his hand airily. "Anyway, isn't there a saying about that?" Oikawa asked airily. "Make it until you break it?"_

_Matsukawa finished his lemonade; loud gurgling startled Oikawa. He cast his gaze over as Matsukawa set his empty cup down and looked at him, head tilted and the sort of expression Oikawa steeled himself against._

_"…At this rate, you're just going to break into a million pieces."_

"Kenma-chan!"

Kenma sighed. "Kuro warned me."

"Warned you about what?"

"Just that you…" Kenma paused to wrinkle his nose, " _sparkle_."

Oikawa wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he'd take it as a compliment.

After his coffee with Hinata, Oikawa decided to head back to the hospital to keep working on his research when Kuroo texted, asked if he'd wanted dinner. Kuroo was a genuinely kind person, Oikawa could tell, which was why he kept offering him opportunities to hang out. Despite his annoyance at constantly having to come up with lies to turn him down, Oikawa also did appreciate his tenacity. It was rare to find people who seemed to be able to read past what was presented to them, and Kuroo seemed to be someone who, like Oikawa, was very perceptive.

He'd never asked, but Oikawa could tell Kuroo didn't need to. By now, he'd definitely figured out that all of Oikawa's friendships with his old friends were strained. The few friends he made were spread all over Japan, and it's not like they were close enough where they would take the time to visit him. The people he'd met in college were acquaintances at best, and because he'd dropped out so suddenly and so quickly, there also weren't any meaningful relationships there.

Oikawa's first instinct to tonight's dinner invitation had been to decline, but he'd accepted on a whim. Even with Kuroo's stubbornness, he might eventually stop if Oikawa kept turning down all of his invitations; he was finding that balance to not close the door on future possible hangouts, while also being able to have enough time to be by himself.

Packing up his computer and notes, Oikawa headed over to the apartment Kuroo shared with Kenma. He'd met him just one time and Kenma barely acknowledged his existence, which Kuroo assured was completely normal. Oikawa had stopped by to borrow some tools to put together his furniture and while he waited by the door, Kenma had come out of their room, ignored him entirely when he greeted him, and went back into the room. Just to be a good guest this time, Oikawa swung by a café to buy Kenma a coffee. And then just because he wanted one, he got another for himself.

In high school, Oikawa hadn't been known to be by himself very often. He'd been known to be popular and extroverted, but he was mainly known to always be with Iwaizumi. _Iwaizumi and Oikawa_ ; one was hardly ever mentioned without the other's name in the same conversation, if not the same sentence. Oikawa hadn't minded; he liked to tease Iwaizumi about how even when they weren't together or in a conversation, they would always be together. Iwaizumi had scoffed. Oikawa had beamed.

Oikawa was hardly ever alone in the first eighteen years of his life; even when Iwaizumi wasn't physically with him, he knew that he would always be a text away. There were times where he wouldn't even have to text; he'd just stop answering and Iwaizumi would show up at his apartment within an hour. He didn't even have to say anything; all Iwaizumi had to do was be there and his physical presence was enough.

Iwaizumi had been known as Oikawa's pillar; that even became how Oikawa would refer to him. He hadn't minded back then, but after the breakup, he hated it; people expected him to fall apart now that Iwaizumi wasn't by his side—why weren't they as worried about him? Did they think Oikawa was that weak and helpless without Iwaizumi? Nobody said it to him, but Oikawa could tell based on the quiet, worried looks people gave him. The ones they gave Iwaizumi were similar, but there was less pity and Oikawa hated it.

They were both each other's best friends and they both lost the friendship and the same relationship, so why was _he_ the one deemed to be weaker? Why was _he_ the only one people would be worried about?

Iwaizumi had been Oikawa's pillar, but now that he was out of his life, Oikawa was determined to prove that he could stand entirely without his support. Iwaizumi shaped Oikawa into who he was, but that didn't mean Oikawa couldn't survive without Iwaizumi. Oikawa was Oikawa, first and foremost, he was an independent person who no longer needed Iwaizumi in his life.

That's what Oikawa told himself.

Iwaizumi had been the one to end their romantic relationship, to casually toss aside their friendship for a romance that he hadn't even been fully invested in, so when he tried to bridge their friendship, Oikawa made it clear that he wasn't interested.

Oikawa hated the idea that anyone would think that everything he'd achieved was because of Iwaizumi; if he fell apart because of his knee in Tokyo, then somehow, Iwaizumi would absolutely know. And, knowing how kind Iwaizumi was at his core, he'd probably try to reach out and when Oikawa rejected him, he'd just physically come over. As mad as he was, Oikawa just had a feeling that if it was something as big as this, Iwaizumi would swallow his pride to be there for him—that's the kind of person Iwaizumi was.

And, Oikawa hated to think, he'd probably let him stay.

It took years for Oikawa to erase any instance of care he'd ever had for Iwaizumi. He had quickly been able to move on from hurt to anger, but even with all that anger, it was the type where he was afraid it would falter in his darkest moments. He left Tokyo because he absolutely couldn't risk it; he also refused to give Iwaizumi any sort of satisfaction of, once again, _saving_ Oikawa, letting everyone know that he'd, once again, arrived on his white horse and with his shining armor to rescue Oikawa from distress.

Oikawa absolutely didn't need Iwaizumi, and he proved that by reeling himself back from a precarious edge entirely by himself. He didn't need Iwaizumi. He didn't even need any friends or his family; he did it all by himself because that was all he needed. He'd never need someone again because the one person he had trusted everything to threw it back in his face.

So over the last decade, Oikawa learned how to be by himself very well. He made friends, but kept them at a safe distance. He dated people, but it lasted a few weeks at most (more than two, though, he'd like to point out.) He told people enough about himself to keep them satisfied, but never more than he needed. He was okay by himself; he focused his energy and attention on his studies and research. Those were what brought him contentment.

Constant, steady contentment, he thought, was better than ebbs and flows of happiness and misery alternating.

He went a step further and found that he preferred to be alone most of the time. It was exhausting to be talking to people who were able to pursue their dreams and keep saying _Iwaizumi_ instead of _Iwa-chan_. When nobody had known Iwaizumi, it was so much easier to pretend Iwaizumi didn't exist anymore. Now there were constant reminders of his existence that made Oikawa want to throw up, but like hell if he'd let Iwaizumi chase him out of Tokyo; he'd taken away one of his dreams already.

Kuroo was easy to hang out with because he hadn't known them well in high school; Oikawa didn't know if he was mentally ready to see Matsukawa and Hanamaki again. Every feeling and every sensation was dulled to Oikawa, _except_ Iwaizumi, whether it was Iwaizumi himself or a mention of him.

It was so easy to be alone on a beach and a hundred miles away from the city that Iwaizumi resided in; he was a distant, horrible memory. But now that he was alone in his apartment and mere miles from where Iwaizumi lived, just that knowledge drove him mad.

But Iwaizumi wouldn't get Tokyo—he'd taken enough already.

"Tetsu-chan said I could wait here," Oikawa smiled, watched Kenma's sharp eyes fall to the sleeve he held housing the two coffees.

"This for me?"

"One of them," Oikawa was sure to clarify. Kenma stared at him for a moment longer and finally stepped aside to let him in. In return, Oikawa wiggled one of the coffees out of the sleeve and handed it to him. He stepped out of his shoes and took out the other one, bringing it to his lips.

"Filming?" Oikawa asked, seeing the videos and lights set up in the living room. Kenma didn't say anything but nodded when he walked past Oikawa. Oikawa tilted his head and smiled; he'd certainly known of Kenma when they were in high school (he made it a point to know _every_ setter), and if one of his greatest regrets was not meeting Kuroo, not meeting Kenma would also be high up.

He thought they'd have been a fun team to play against.

"Game reviews? Or streaming?"

"Streaming," Kenma answered, flicking his eyes up at Oikawa. "Just finished though. Kuroo wanted to film something tonight, but I don't know if he'll actually follow through."

"Cute," Oikawa grinned and Kenma wrinkled his nose. "The videos with him are probably some of your most viewed, aren't they?"

Kenma's lack of an answer was more than sufficient. His heavy sigh was an added bonus.

Still grinning, Oikawa sauntered over and stood by the edge of the couch politely. "If you're not filming, mind if I sit with you?"

Kenma shook his head; Oikawa slid his bag off his shoulder and set it down next to the couch. He took the seat next to Kenma and reached over to take out his laptop first, placing it in his lap and reaching for his notebook and folder after lifting the screen, giving the device a few moments to power up. He could feel Kenma's gaze as he took out the article he was reading, uncapping a highlighter with his teeth and grinning as he caught Kenma stealing a glance. "Curious? Am I about to convince you to abandon your lucrative career for mindless research?"

"No," Kenma mumbled, then his eyes darted over again. "…What are you researching?"

"You're really interested?" Oikawa asked, taking the pen out from between his teeth.

"Every question you ask makes me a little less so."

Oikawa beamed and tilted his computer to let Kenma see the diagrams he had pulled up; when reading articles, he liked to have a detailed anatomy diagram up so that he could visualize what the writing was saying. Kenma blinked impassively and Oikawa watched his eyes flit from the screen to one of the articles and back again. "ACL injuries?" he asked after a few seconds.

"You know science?!"

Kenma scowled. "…You're an ass."

Oikawa smiled, singing an apology. "Sorry, not to imply I didn't expect you to know it, Ken-chan, I was surprised, that's all! I knew you were smart, just didn't realize you'd be well versed in biology as well!"

"Kuro considered going into medicine and he'd study with me for a while," Kenma grumbled, glancing over again and reaching up to push one of the headphones away from his ear completely. "Are you trying to look into new treatment methods?"

Oikawa nodded with a hum, decided he liked hanging out with Kenma more than with Kuroo, even if the feeling wasn't reciprocated. "ACL tears end careers across almost every sport, and for something so common and all the advancements we have today, I don't think that makes sense. It'll be too late for me, but not for other people."

Kenma's silence confirmed what Oikawa had been wondering, and he just shook his head at his quiet 'sorry.' Whenever he was talking to someone who used to play, Oikawa would always wonder if they'd heard through the grapevine about his knee. He generally assumed everyone had, and that they also had the courtesy to not directly ask him about it, but he still remembered Iwaizumi's reaction.

The one person he hadn't wanted to know had been the only person who seemed to actually not know. Oikawa spent years blocking Iwaizumi out of his memory and from learning about him, but somehow knowing that Iwaizumi also hated him back so much to do the same irked him.

Kenma fell silent again; in the short time Oikawa had known him, he'd already identified three of Kenma's silences:

The "I don't want to talk" silence.

The "you're an idiot" silence.

The "I have something to say that you won't like" silence.

This was the third one.

"…Pretty noble of you," he said and started typing quickly, to which Oikawa tried to peek at his screen and immediately became overwhelmed with a bunch of code. "Trying to keep what happened to you from happening to anyone else."

"I'm a pretty great guy, yeah?" Oikawa asked, leaning back on the couch and returning his gaze to his computer.

"Yeah," Kenma agreed.

There was a pause. It was heavy, and even before Kenma kept talking, Oikawa knew he wouldn't like what he'd had to say.

"…Are you sure it's for the right reasons, though?"

Oikawa didn't respond at first and when he did, he glanced to make sure Kenma wasn't looking before letting a small smile etch his lips. "As long as the results are there, I don't think my intentions really matter, yeah?"

"True," Kenma said and shrugged. "…But they do if part of your motivation is to convince yourself you're a good person or that you're actually over your knee."

* * *

"Hey! Stretch first, asshole!"

"But-!"

_"Stretch first, asshole!"_

"I did!"

" _Thirty seconds, Bokuto, or I'll sit on you for an entire minute!"_

"Actually—"

_"JUST DO IT."_

"I've gotten a lot more flexible ever since Iwaizumi-san started," Hinata noted with a somber nod.

Iwaizumi watched Bokuto sadly jog over to where the rest of the team was stretching; as he passed by, Iwaizumi reached a hand out to slap the volleyball out from under his arm and glare at him until he joined Hinata on the floor and folded one leg, leaning over to easily grab his opposite toes, pout never lessening. Iwaizumi watched his sharp eyes pick up on a ball that was rolling towards him and was quick to intercept it.

"Focus on stretching."

"But Iwaizumi!"

"Do you wanna get to play today at all?!"

Bokuto had been the last one Iwaizumi needed to herd; he had been a few minutes late that morning, getting caught up in doing inventory of their medical supplies to make sure there wasn't anything else he needed to order for the week. When he entered the gym and saw only about half the team stretching, all he had to do was glare and snap 'hey!' for almost everyone else to immediately drop and follow suit; Hinata and Bokuto were in the middle of spiking balls at each other when Iwaizumi went up to them, took their ball and spiked it with such force that they literally ran away.

Iwaizumi knew for a fact that professional athletes who had gone through years and years of schooling absolutely knew the importance of stretching and warming up. If they'd somehow managed to not remember it from elementary school or middle school, they'd had a second chance in high school when learning biology. If that failed, when they started playing in college, then they should've had it reamed into their brains.

And yet, every morning Iwaizumi found himself chasing down at least one person (either Bokuto or Hinata) because if it didn't involve a ball, they weren't interested.

"Morning, Iwaizumi-kun."

Dropping his hand from his face, Iwaizumi nodded as the coach stepped in. "Morning. They're in the middle of stretching."

"Aren't we done yet?!" Bokuto whined and Iwaizumi shot him a glare.

"No, dumbass! You have two legs and you've stretched half of one! And don't forget your arms! I'll kick your ass if you get hurt just because you didn't properly stretch out your muscles before practice!"

"He will," Sakusa supplied gravely.

The coach laughed. "You seem to be running a tighter ship than usual. How are things with the physiotherapist?"

Iwaizumi paused for a moment; bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head, he gave a nod and made a note to yell at everyone who was suddenly staring at them. "They're good. One of the things he recommended was to just keep a better eye out for warning signs, like Sakusa's shoulder."

"Ah," the coach nodded sagely. "So that's why you're having them stretch extra? Well, I guess it can't hurt."

Iwaizumi nodded, sighing as he rested his hands in his pockets, sharp eyes passing over each individual to make sure they weren't skipping any of the stretches. When he made eye contact with a few of them, they tended to grin at him and flash a thumbs up; Iwaizumi would just glare.

Whether or not Oikawa had said what he did to taunt him, Iwaizumi couldn't help but hear the truth in his words. He'd mulled over it for days; Iwaizumi had always considered himself to be someone who could separate personal and professional relationships, but of course the first instance where he couldn't would be because of Oikawa.

"Iwaizumi-kun, I appreciate your hard work, but don't be too hard on yourself, all right?"

Iwaizumi flinched, caught a bit off balance when he felt a hand clap firmly onto his shoulder. He looked over to see the coach smiling at him. "I know you blame yourself for Sakusa's shoulder, but things like this happen. You're good at your job. Trust your gut."

When the team had finally stretched to Iwaizumi's satisfaction, he'd gone with Sakusa into a separate room to help him with his exercises. He couldn't help but apologize again for walking out and Sakusa shook his head. _"You don't need to apologize, Iwaizumi-san."_

_"I do," Iwaizumi mumbled gruffly. "I should be able to get past our history for work. Besides, it's gotta be awkward for you to be in the same room as two people who hate each other."_

_"It is."_

_"…Thanks for not sugarcoating it."_

By the time they finished and returned to the gym, the team had moved onto the second round of drills. Sakusa headed towards the bench right on court and Iwaizumi took to the bleachers and started going through the notes he had brought with him that day. He made sure to glance up every now and then; it wasn't as if he didn't trust the coach, but his focus was on their form, whereas Iwaizumi specifically looked for any straining or possible injuries. He was used to multitasking like this ever since middle school; none of them were ever as bad as Oikawa, but there was also only one Oikawa.

There were a few upcoming seminars that Iwaizumi was intending on calling into if he had the time because taking the days off to attend in person was looking to be unlikely; the research he looked into in his spare time was so far high-level overviews on how to prevent injuries. He hadn't felt drawn to anything in particular, but he found himself gravitating towards ACL research as of late, every now and then catching himself wondering if these were articles Oikawa had gone through, either now or when he'd torn his.

They still weren't anything close to speaking terms, but the other day, Iwaizumi had been surprised to receive a non-immediately-work-related text from Oikawa that he had been frozen to the spot and almost took one of Bokuto's spikes to the head, had it not been for Ushijima's last minute saving.

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

_This article might help._

He probably sent it just to rub Sakusa's injury in his face in a way that was impossible for Iwaizumi to objectively declare as being petty, but Iwaizumi was annoyed that the article _did_ help; Oikawa seemed to have gotten it from the medical community and he was most likely much more familiar with navigating those realms than Iwaizumi. The article had an in-depth section on the injury Sakusa had, but it also delved into other injuries, and Iwaizumi found himself referencing it pretty often.

Whether or not Oikawa's intentioned, Iwaizumi offhandedly mentioned something from it at the following session. He'd made it a point to not look at Oikawa more than he had to, but he couldn't help his peripheral vision and when Oikawa looked genuinely surprised at Iwaizumi bringing the article up without any snide undertones, he took that as _his_ win.

For Sakusa's sake, they'd been able to start working together. It was still tense between them when they had no choice but to communicate, but at least they still seemed to work well together. Sakusa tended to remain quiet unless he was addressed specifically, but Iwaizumi could tell that he was listening in—most likely to report back to the team (definitely at Hinata's request, not his own) than out of interest.

Iwaizumi knew they knew. The national team had a group chat that he kept being re-added to when he tried to leave, but when notifications from that chat more than halved and the idiots were still pouring over their phones, he had a feeling they were talking in a group chat that didn't include him, which meant they were talking _about_ him. They also weren't the most subtle of folks; even Ushijima had asked about Oikawa and because it was Ushijima, Iwaizumi gave an honest answer. But when he tried to ask something more about Iwaizumi and Oikawa, he'd told him to piss off.

"Yo."

Iwaizumi glanced over in time to see Kuroo taking a seat next to him and he returned with a nod, capping his highlighter. "Hey. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, luckily I don't have to deal with the kids often."

"Kids? You're the same age."

"Only physically."

"…? What… other kind of age is there…?"

"Many kinds. Anyway, came to see how you're doing, but also wanted to let you know that I've been hanging out with Oikawa."

Kuroo stopped by every now and then, and Iwaizumi normally didn't mind. He was usually talking to the coach about scheduling when he was here; one of the few times he'd needed to talk to Iwaizumi was to ask if they could take off the bandages on Hinata's foot for a twisted ankle, because it would really help to cut down on photo editing.

Iwaizumi just stared at him silently and Kuroo nodded. _"Right, well, we're gonna have to edit other stuff anyway—or we could use someone else. Good call, Iwaizumi."_

They weren't close, but because volleyball was a small world and somehow everyone knew at least a little bit of everyone's business, Iwaizumi could see why Kuroo felt a need to bring up that he was in contact with Oikawa. He didn't know how Kuroo and Oikawa met and didn't care to know, but the fact that they knew each other was a great travesty to the universe and a horrifyingly annoying addition to everyone's lives. The only thing worse would be Oikawa and Atsumu meeting, and that had also happened; the only saving grace was that Iwaizumi hadn't been subjected to being in the same room as them yet.

Iwaizumi grunted, turning away and frowning. "I don't know what you expect me to do with that. Good for you, I guess."

"Just full disclosure," Kuroo answered easily and even though he wasn't trying to be annoying, Iwaizumi was becoming annoyed. "Didn't want you to think I was secretly on his side."

"You're his friend and you're not on his side?"

Kuroo laughed. "I mean, weren't your friends his too? He hasn't told me much but if you two hate each other this much, I don't think it was one of those clean break ups where one person's easily fully at fault. Bet Matsukawa and Hanamaki are also at least a little on his side."

Iwaizumi didn't answer immediately; he'd hoped to be able to hide his scowl, but Kuroo was too quick and perceptive. "Since I seemed to have hit a bullseye, do I get a prize or anything?"

"What, you want intel on what happened between us?"

"Yeah," Kuroo answered bluntly. "He doesn't talk about it at all and, I gotta admit, I'm curious. What was so bad that it made you two hate each other?"

Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed. He heard Kuroo offer an apology after a moment and he sighed; reaching his arms behind him, he leaned backwards with his elbows pressed to the next row up of bleachers. "…It was nothing," he grumbled at last. "Ask him if you wanna know that badly. I don't like talking about it."

From his new angle, he could see Kuroo nodding. Iwaizumi returned his gaze, murmuring 'nice' at a service ace from Kageyama. Kuroo whistled; Kageyama seemed startled and he just beamed. "Making me proud!"

"Th-thank you, Kuroo-san…?"

"Hey," Kuroo said, looking over his shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

Iwaizumi groaned, letting his head roll back. "Fuck. You're going to ask anyway, so just go for it."

"So I floated this idea by Oikawa and he seemed skeptical, but is there any part of you that thinks you two might be meant for each other, you just dated at the wrong time?"

Iwaizumi froze. He hadn't realized he wasn't even blinking until his eyes started watering; squeezing them shut, he brought his head back up and rubbed at one of his eyes. He waited another moment before sitting forward again and sighed, feeling his heart thudding in his chest. "…You're not going to run back and tell him whatever I say, will you?"

"Nah," Kuroo chuckled. "I'm not trying to pay Cupid. I'm just curious."

"…Well, at least you're honest."

Iwaizumi exhaled deeply. In every interaction he'd had with Oikawa, he consistently acted in a way that Iwaizumi had seen only a few times when they were in high school; he probably acted closer to his normal personality when with other people, but Iwaizumi found that hard to imagine. When he was with Oikawa, he barely recognized the person he once knew.

But at the same time, he could still see that person there so clearly. Oikawa still had that drive, passion, and determination that drove his incredible work ethic; he was even still loyal to a fault to the sport he had loved so much, ending up in a field that _had_ to be hurting him to be in.

Iwaizumi hated to think about these things, but he couldn't help it. It was one thing to not think about Oikawa when he had no idea where he was, but it was another when he was very aware that somewhere in the very same city as him, Oikawa was there. It was impossible to not think about him; after nine years of not doing so, all Oikawa had to do was show up in a bar and suddenly Iwaizumi didn't know how he'd lived for so long without knowing where he was and if he was all right.

"…It's a lot easier to hate someone when they're not in the same fucking city as you."

Kuroo didn't say anything and as soon as Iwaizumi stole a glance, he regretted it because that smile made him want to crumple up and disappear. He scoffed and rested his chin in his palm, digging his elbow into his knee. "Fuck off, Kuroo."

"Hey, hey, I didn't say anything. I'm just glad to be right."

"I didn't say I didn't hate him," Iwaizumi grumbled. The hand he'd been cradling his chin with made its way to his eyes and he formed a loose fist, pressing his forehead to his thumb. "It's his fucking fault for tearing his ACL. I mean, who the hell wouldn't worry about that?"

"Yeah, that's another thing he won't talk about. He actually doesn't talk about a lot… now that I think about it, I don't really know what we talk about."

Iwaizumi had begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was impossible to keep hating Oikawa constantly. He'd thought that by now, he would have moved on from what happened. Over the years, he had idly wondered what would happen if they bumped into each other, and in each scenario, he had thought that they would be civil, if cold.

But he hadn't anticipated the smoldering pit in his chest almost an entire decade later. The hurt and anger felt as strong as it had that first game in college as soon as he saw Oikawa again and it left Iwaizumi wondering if this was just something that he would have to carry with him for the rest of his life. Before he saw Oikawa, he thought that he was starting to move on; he had been happy with Himari for a while, spent time with his friends, and enjoyed his job.

Then Oikawa came back and all Iwaizumi could feel was anger at him for their past and anger at him for hurting himself.

"…I chose this career path because of him," Iwaizumi mumbled quietly. He could see Kuroo look over in surprise from the corner of his eye; Iwaizumi kept his gaze trained on the court, but sighed. "I tried to change it in college, but… this is what I wanted to do. I was there when he hurt his knee the first time and I wanted to be someone who could've helped him. I fucking hate that he even influenced this. He influenced so much of me when we were growing up and after I decided to cut him out of my life, he still shows up in my fucking career. Then, on top of that, he literally shows up. I can't get rid of him."

Kuroo hummed. After a moment, he leaned forward and also leaned his elbows on his knees.

"You know, I haven't said this to Oikawa because I'm afraid he might actually hit me, but hate and anger are a lot easier to feel and process than hurt."

Iwaizumi sighed again. "…Yeah. I know."

"Oh, you already know? Wow, you really are way more emotionally advanced than Oikawa."

"That's like saying a fuckin' rocket scientist is better at physics than a caveman."

"So you're a rocket scientist now?"

"Fuck _off_ , Kuroo."

Kuroo laughed and for just a moment, Iwaizumi would admit he and Oikawa shared one thing in common.

"Look, like I said, I'm not trying to get you two back together. I just consider both of you my friends, and I don't like that both of you allegedly hate each other so much still after ten years. Think about it, yeah? Right person, wrong time. You've both grown up a lot since then."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "Not him."

"How would you know, when you haven't properly talked to him?"

Stilling, Iwaizumi could only scoff after another pause. Iwaizumi tried his best to not dwell on it, but he didn't have full control over his own thoughts and he'd find himself comparing the Oikawa from the past to the one now, the one he'd dated to the one now, search for differences and justifications for his feelings because Kuroo was right. People changed, especially over the course of almost a decade and _especially_ after something as traumatizing as losing a lifelong goal.

On the surface, Oikawa still appeared petulant and childish, but Oikawa had never been someone to take at face value only.

Licking his lips, Iwaizumi swallowed uncomfortably and focused his gaze on the court again. "…Don't you have actual work to do?"

"Playing Cupid is actual work."

"…Good thing you've got Kenma."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoved five chapters in my beta's face because i got on a real roll with editing and the fact that she didn't drop me right then and there is a sign of true love, honestly
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments adored ♡


	7. just a flesh wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “yes, but this is oikawa,” hanamaki explained calmly, giving iwaizumi a pitying nod. “he’s a known asshole.”

Iwaizumi had vilified Oikawa.

For as long as he could remember in their friendship, Iwaizumi had constantly scolded Oikawa on his immaturity because the only time Oikawa didn't act like he was two years old was when he was one year old. Oikawa had always responded with a childish whine, adding a huff and occasionally throwing in a stomp of his foot, which only further proved Iwaizumi's point.

And Iwaizumi had been okay with it because he had accepted that this was who Oikawa was; for all of his childish antics, the times where he was mature more than made up for it. Iwaizumi was known to be Oikawa's pillar, but he'd always thought that it went both ways; he needed Oikawa just as much as Oikawa needed him, it was just in a quieter, more subtle way. Without Oikawa to lean against and support him, Iwaizumi didn't know if he could be as strong as people thought him to be; if Iwaizumi was a pillar, then Oikawa was the foundation itself.

However, when it came to fights, Iwaizumi was overwhelmingly the one who appeared to be mature more often. For almost two decades, Iwaizumi was usually the one to reach out after a fight, even if it wasn't his fault. There were only two times where Iwaizumi was so angry that Oikawa had extended the olive branch first; Iwaizumi had still been upset, but Oikawa swallowing his pride enough to extend the gesture was enough for him to start to forgive him.

But when it came to the biggest fight they'd ever had, both of them had chosen pride and self-preservation instead of reaching out. Iwaizumi did try to reach out, but maybe it was too late, or he gave up too easily. Maybe it was both. He could've tried again; he could've gone and asked Hanamaki or Matsukawa for his schedule or dorm and gone to find him in person. He could've asked one of them to be a messenger. He even could've reached out to Oikawa's sister if everything else failed; Iwaizumi had at least three more avenues, but he had opted for pride over their friendship. It took seeing Oikawa again to admit that when it came to a friendship like theirs, it took two people to break that connection.

In Iwaizumi's mind, Oikawa Tooru was suspended in time as a high school caricature version of himself. Every negative trait that Iwaizumi had once found endearing was exaggerated to be a larger part of who Oikawa was than the trait was in reality; the Oikawa that Iwaizumi kept in his memory was flirty, obnoxious, whiny, prideful, immature, and selfish.

He didn't let himself think about how selfless and kind Oikawa was, or how strong and loyal he was. He pushed away all the traits that had been why he'd been in love with him, and Iwaizumi had almost deluded himself until he saw Oikawa again. If he had to think about Oikawa, he'd focus on when he had thrown such a big temper tantrum that Iwaizumi failed a test because he spent the entire night out looking for him, refusing to remember that Oikawa hadn't known he had an exam and apologized by making study guides and flashcards for him for the rest of that semester. He thought about Oikawa being deliriously sick and smacking a hot bowl of soup out of Iwaizumi's hands just because he didn't want chicken noodle soup that day, instead of Oikawa nearly slicing his fingers off to make _him_ food when he ended up catching that same virus. He focused on Oikawa making Iwaizumi carry all the chocolates, gifts, and cards he'd receive on Valentine's Day or his birthday, and not the way Oikawa would always kindly but firmly turn down confessions, never once leading on anyone he didn't truly have feelings for.

He focused on just half of the picture and was so, so close to permanently erasing the other half until Oikawa showed up again.

The real version of Oikawa Tooru was in front of him and even though he was still flirty, obnoxious, whiny, prideful, immature, and selfish, Iwaizumi also couldn't deny that he was kind, intelligent, hard-working, and strong. He'd chosen a profession that directly put him in a position to help the people he was the most jealous of; if Iwaizumi was in his position, he couldn't guarantee that he would be able to do that. He didn't have to be able to empathize; just sympathizing made his chest feel like it was caving in on himself because the only thing Iwaizumi loved as much as Oikawa loved volleyball was probably how he felt about Oikawa himself.

Oikawa wasn't nice to Iwaizumi, _obviously_ , but he was kind and patient with Sakusa. Oikawa would be subtle and passive aggressive with Iwaizumi, but he never took it out on Sakusa and based on the rare texts that Atsumu returned, he didn't take it out on him either. And even if Oikawa could be subtle and passive aggressive, he was also serious and professional when it was required of him. Iwaizumi could only imagine that Oikawa could have switched patients with someone else if he really wanted to, but he'd chosen to help the players instead of making things easier for himself and Iwaizumi had to admit that that was selfless.

Oikawa talked a lot, and his words were often annoying and stupid, but his true character was reflected in his actions, and Iwaizumi couldn't fault them.

Like he admitted to Kuroo, it was a lot harder to hate Oikawa when the real version was in front of him. There'd been a reason that Iwaizumi fell so in love with him; he'd been in love with the real Oikawa who not many people saw, the core of who he was, the very intrinsic nature that would never change, even after ten years. He was in love with that base of his character; he loved his pure heart and stubborn mind, his unwavering loyalty and stern determination. He loved the part of Oikawa that drove everything else about him, that would never, ever change.

It was a lot harder to hate real Oikawa and it was even harder to try and hold onto the version of Oikawa he had created in his mind.

Oikawa had been a few minutes late that morning for the first time. He sang an apology when he came in, though his pleasant smile lasted only for Sakusa; when he made eye contact with Iwaizumi, the curve of his lips disappeared immediately, replaced with an impassive gaze. "Hope you didn't wait too long."

Iwaizumi scoffed and Sakusa shook his head. Iwaizumi watched him, brow knit. "Were you with Atsumu?"

"No, we just had a staff meeting," Oikawa answered, a terseness that Iwaizumi was sure only he could pick up. Iwaizumi moved to help Sakusa out of his sling and was sure to not give any indication of trying to glance at Oikawa as he moved to set it down on the nearby table. "Neither of you talk to him?" he heard Oikawa ask plainly.

It was silent for a beat. Sakusa wasn't one to talk a lot in general; he'd answer if Oikawa seemed to be addressing them both, but this was a question Iwaizumi knew wanted to avoid and he just sighed, cleared his throat. "He doesn't answer texts for the most part," Iwaizumi answered, saw Oikawa's eyes flick up to meet his. "Is he doing all right?"

"You're his trainer and you don't know?"

Iwaizumi barely managed to keep from snapping back, nails digging into his arms abetting in the refrain. In high school they'd been able to communicate wordlessly; almost a decade had passed but Iwaizumi found himself reflexively glancing at Sakusa, made sure Oikawa saw before he looked back to him again, gaze softening and shoulders slumping tiredly. Oikawa held his gaze for another moment and then his eyes closed as he inhaled, chin raising and dropping just a bit, just enough to pass as a nod and Iwaizumi's heart skipped a beat to think he'd understood.

After nine years, he still understood.

"…He's doing fine," Oikawa said quietly, smiling faintly at Sakusa, whose eyes dropped. "I can't go into specifics, but he's all right. You don't need to worry too much about him; if it gets bad, I'll speak to Iwaizumi about it. But for now, giving space is the best thing to do. You can't go wrong if you follow what Iwaizumi says."

Iwaizumi stiffened in surprise; part of him waited for Oikawa to say he was joking, but all he said after that was _please lean forward_.

Iwaizumi hadn't initially been pleased with Atsumu's decision; Iwaizumi hadn't flooded his phone as much as he assumed Bokuto and Hinata did, but he did text more than he normally did. However, it didn't take him long to stop; he'd made sure to let Atsumu know he was there if he needed anything and told the team to leave him alone as well.

He hadn't let himself linger on it too much, but there were definite similarities to be noted between Atsumu and Oikawa. By the time he'd injured himself, Iwaizumi didn't know him well, but he _did_ know Oikawa well, and so he tried what he would if it were Oikawa.

Atsumu texted back after a few days, just one text but said his first session went well, and Iwaizumi was so relieved he didn't yell at Bokuto's question about owl babies that day and actually entertained his conversation.

Iwaizumi watched Sakusa lean forward. Oikawa had a palm pressed to the back of his shoulder, his other hand wrapping around his upper arm gently. "Twist your upper body… yes, like that. Now, relax your shoulder… does that hurt?"

"It's fine."

"That means it hurts," Iwaizumi grumbled, glaring at Sakusa, as if he were a disobedient child. He could tell Sakusa frowned, even from under his mask.

Oikawa nodded. "Twist a little less, please. Does that feel better?"

"Yes."

Oikawa flitted his eyes to Iwaizumi and he swore his heart dropped. Oikawa's gaze had always been piercing when he was serious, but it felt amplified today and Iwaizumi hadn't been ready to be on the receiving end.

He recovered quickly and nodded. "Yeah, he's telling the truth."

Oikawa slanted his gaze back to Sakusa, bangs concealing his eyes again. Iwaizumi relaxed against the wall, arms loose across his chest as he watched Sakusa, nodding whenever Oikawa would glance at him again for confirmation on what Sakusa was saying. Iwaizumi couldn't pinpoint when, but at some point his gaze focused more on Oikawa than on Sakusa. He seemed to be keeping his hair shorter than he did in high school and while his jaw had the same sharp angles to it, his shoulders were broader. His hair looked as soft as lustrous as it always did and his skin was still like porcelain; Iwaizumi found himself wondering if his eyes still had the same specks in it that would catch sunlight as easily as his hands the ball and promptly told himself to snap out of it.

It had taken Hanamaki pointing it out for Iwaizumi to realize just how often he stole glances at him; Iwaizumi probably looked at Oikawa more than he'd look at himself in the mirror, but Oikawa was magnetic. He couldn't help it; not only was he blindingly brilliant, he was objectively attractive, which, Iwaizumi thought, was just unfair of the universe to put an annoying ass, devilish personality into a body with a face like _that_.

He jolted when his phone vibrated in his pocket; Iwaizumi mumbled an apology because the movement attracted both of their attention and pulled out his phone, frowning at the text message.

**From: Hinata Shoyo**

_iwaizumi-san my ankle hurts_

"Damnit," he mumbled and pushed off the wall. When he looked over, he made eye contact with Oikawa first; had he never looked away? Clearing his throat, Iwaizumi dropped his gaze to Sakusa. "I have to make a call. I'll be outside if you need anything, okay?"

Sakusa nodded and Iwaizumi turned, dialing Hinata's number and bringing the phone to his ear. The line connected as soon as he stepped outside. "Hey," he said in a low voice, closing the door behind him. "Your ankle hurts? What did you do?"

"Um… hurt it?"

The hospital reception wasn't the best, but Iwaizumi had a feeling that wasn't why Hinata sounded strange. He narrowed his eyes when he heard scuffling in the background and exhaled slowly, resting his free hand on his hip. "…Your ankle hurts because you hurt it?"

More whispering in the background before Hinata was speaking again.

"Y-yeah! Kageyama kicked a ball—"

"He _kicked_ it?"

"By accident, he kicked it and I stepped on it."

"You _stepped_ on it?"

Louder whispering, a third, unidentified but hushed voice joining in.

Iwaizumi sighed loudly, rubbing his face tiredly. "Hinata," he said tiredly, "if you guys have time to prank call me—"

"I-i-it's not a prank! My ankle really hurts! I stepped on a ball and twisted it!"

"Which ankle?"

"Left!"

"Practice match?"

"Drills!"

"When?"

"Ten minutes ago!"

"Right ankle?"

"Yeah! Wait—"

"Get back to practice," Iwaizumi snapped, hanging up as he heard Hinata try and correct himself again. He glared at his phone; there was absolutely no part of him that wanted to know what they were up to because it would undoubtedly only piss him off. The group chat was still relatively slow; Iwaizumi got only a handful of messages, which led him to hypothesize the group chat made to talk about him was constantly blowing up.

Pocketing his phone, Iwaizumi returned to the room and nodded when Sakusa asked if everything was okay. "Just Hinata being stupid with Hoshiumi and Bokuto."

"What happened?"

"He said he stepped on a volleyball and twisted his ankle."

The way Sakusa stared at him told more about his involvement than Iwaizumi had cared to know.

The rest of the session passed uneventfully; Iwaizumi had asked if Sakusa would be fine going home by himself and he'd let slip that he had plans with Hinata and Bokuto. Iwaizumi had glared at him, taking a few seconds to mull over how hard he wanted to press him, knew he could get the truth out of him. Knowing Sakusa, he was involved in whatever ploy was happening against his will.

_"…What are they up to?"_

Sakusa adjusted his mask and sighed.

_"Would you really like to know, Iwaizumi-san?"_

They both knew the answer was no.

Iwaizumi had the day off and so he was in no rush, but he still hadn't planned on lingering in the hospital. After he parted ways with Sakusa, he had gone to the restroom and checked his phone again to make sure nobody had actually gotten hurt. After confirming no alarming texts or emails, thus confirming Hinata was a bad liar, Iwaizumi locked his phone and opened the bathroom door, stepping out and nearly colliding with someone.

He reflexively said sorry, and when he realized it was Oikawa, he almost defaulted to a familiar 'watch where you're going,' barely managing to catch himself because it would definitely be taken as aggressive. Oikawa had stumbled and Iwaizumi almost reached out to steady him, but Oikawa was able to catch himself with a hand to the wall. Iwaizumi mumbled another apology and Oikawa shook his head; he'd glanced at him only once and kept his gaze averted, and Iwaizumi couldn't work out if he was feeling irritated or relieved at that.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Iwaizumi had turned to head towards the lobby when he instead found himself turning back around. "You think Sakusa can get back to playing soon?" he called down the hallway, seeing Oikawa's backside.

Oikawa stopped walking; it took him a moment, but he looked over his shoulder and just stared at Iwaizumi. He broke eye contact after a few seconds and Iwaizumi could feel his annoyance building again, because no matter the history, blatantly ignoring someone was _rude_ , so his annoyance was justified, but Oikawa ended up sighing and turned to face him. "A few more weeks," he answered easily. "He's been doing well with his exercises, so his recovery is going well."

Iwaizumi nodded; he lingered for a moment before taking a few steps forward so that he didn't have to feel like he was yelling down a hospital hallway to talk to him. Oikawa didn't take any steps back as he approached, which was a good sign; they still stood a bit further apart than most people would, but it was about as close as Iwaizumi could bring himself. "…And Atsumu? I know patient confidentiality, but is there anything you can tell me?"

"You really haven't been talking to him?" Oikawa asked, tone so even that Iwaizumi couldn't pick up on any nuances to decipher what he was thinking.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, raised his chin a bit. "It's hard to talk to someone when they won't answer you."

Oikawa's expression darkened. He inhaled sharply and just as he opened his mouth, a kid ran around the corner and right into the back of Oikawa's legs. He stumbled forward a few steps and Iwaizumi reflexively held his arms out but as soon as Oikawa wasn't in danger of falling over, he pulled. They both looked at the kid; he couldn't have been older than two or three years old, Iwaizumi thought.

"Sorry, mister!"

Oikawa smiled and turned to be able to ruffle his hair. "Don't worry about it. Promise me no running in hospitals though, okay?"

He smiled brightly and nodded as his concerned parent also turned the corner, sweeping him up in his arms, also apologizing to them before disappearing from where they came from. Iwaizumi wondered if the kid knew what he had stopped from happening; when he looked back at Oikawa, he still looked vaguely annoyed, but no longer like he was going to yell at him. Oikawa took a deep breath and pushed his bangs away from his face.

"He's… not as easy a patient as Sakusa-san," Oikawa said eventually.

"Yeah, I bet," Iwaizumi mumbled. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. "Is there anything I should be doing?"

"…No," Oikawa said quietly. "I think you're right to give him his space. If I were him, that's what I'd want."

"Yeah, I figured," Iwaizumi said before he could stop himself. He felt Oikawa's gaze on him immediately and crossed his arms, pointedly not looking back. "Is he doing well though? The actual physical therapy?"

When Oikawa didn't answer for several moments, Iwaizumi forced himself to look at him. This time, Oikawa wasn't looking at him; he was looking off to his side, lips pursed in a frown. Iwaizumi's frown deepened. "…Oikawa."

"He hasn't started yet," Oikawa said finally with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Now, before you start yelling—"

"I trust you."

Oikawa's eyes fluttered open and head jerked to face Iwaizumi. "…Oh?"

"This isn't easy for me to say," Iwaizumi grumbled, "but you're good at your job and he has the same injury you did, so… if you're letting him push it off, then it's probably for good reason. Nobody understands him better than you do, so just let me know what I can do from my end. He's fucking annoying, but he's a good person, for the most part."

Iwaizumi drummed his fingers along his arm; something was twisting inside him but when he heard Oikawa quietly say "okay," it started unfolding in his chest. Iwaizumi nodded stiffly; he hated that Oikawa was making it that much harder to hate him by not reacting like a petulant brat. Pushing himself off the wall, he cleared his throat. "Right. Well—"

"He reminds you of me, doesn't he?"

Iwaizumi wasn't sure if the feeling that washed over him was cold or hot; he just knew that he felt unsteady for a moment until making eye contact with Oikawa anchored him. Lips suddenly dry, Iwaizumi averted his gaze and licked them. "Fuck off," he snapped. "I don't know what you're accusing me of—"

"No, not in that way," Oikawa shook his head, smirk embedded in his tone without reaching his lips. "I mean the way he's acting and the way you're choosing to deal with him."

Iwaizumi frowned, but he didn't deny what Oikawa said, choosing instead to exercise his right to stay silent. Oikawa hummed; he also pushed off the wall, and Iwaizumi couldn't help but glance at his knee. "Well, as someone with his type of personality, what you're doing now is the best for him. Right now, anyway. You have a track record of not always remembering to reach out again."

Iwaizumi bristled, but as he was about to snap, Oikawa had turned and was starting to leave. The conversation had been going fine until then; Iwaizumi was actually thinking that they might be able to be civilized with each other until that last comment. Oikawa usually got the last word of every argument they had; he had always been good with his words and timing that way. And normally, their arguments were over silly things where the last word didn't matter, but as of recent, every conversation they had felt like an argument to some degree and winning actually meant something, if only for pride.

Iwaizumi hesitated and shook his head. _No, fuck that. Fuck pride._

He couldn't tell what Oikawa's intentions were. He didn't say anything without meaning it or with a plan, and so he knew that he wasn't accidentally pissing him off; that being said, Iwaizumi also didn't know what kind of logic was behind a conversation that was 80% fine and 20% insulting, if this was just Oikawa exercising his ability to catch him off guard.

Maybe he wasn't quite as matured from his teenage days as Iwaizumi thought he was; for everything that had changed since high school, some things hadn't, and the last time Iwaizumi stopped reaching out because of his own pride, it had ended catastrophically.

He stopped walking and gave a sigh that expelled so much air he found his shoulders rounding. In high school, he'd almost always had to be the one to reach out, even when he wasn't quite ready to do so, but thought the blow to his pride was worth being able to talk to Oikawa again. As much as they had changed since high school, maybe this part of whatever relationship they had left was still the same.

"…Hey," he heard himself say, looking over his shoulder. "…I'm meeting up with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. You wanna come?"

Oikawa looked as surprised as Iwaizumi expected and he couldn't help but feel smug at that; this was a situation that Oikawa couldn't have seen coming and manipulated his way into gaining the upper hand in. Iwaizumi wasn't expecting him to say yes, but knowing Oikawa's personality, declining the invitation would also be a version of losing. Iwaizumi was certain that he had good intentions in inviting him; he just couldn't control Oikawa's reasoning for his logic.

And because of that, Iwaizumi already knew his answer before he gave it.

He stared at Iwaizumi silently for a bit but eventually nodded, lips pursed in a slight frown.

"…All right. Couldn't hurt."

* * *

**_national team group chat minus iwaizumi-san_ changed to _operation iwaizumi-san_**

**Bokuto Koutarou:** _today failed :(_

 **Hinata Shoyo:** _i tried my best!_

 **Kageyama Tobio:** _why are we doing this anyway?_

 **Hoshiumi Korai:** _bc iwaizumi-san needs our help. wheres sakusa_

 **Hinata Shoyo:** _he said he thinks we're being childish and left :(_

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _We should let Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa discuss any possible reconciliation to their relationship themselves._

 **Bokuto Koutarou:** _k ushiwaka-chan_

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _Please do not call me that._

**Bokuto Koutarou added Miya Osamu to the chat**

**Miya Osamu:** _no_

**Miya Osamu has left the chat**

**Bokuto Koutarou:** _:(_

**Bokuto Koutarou added Miya Osamu to the chat**

**Bokuto Koutarou:** _klsdgha_

 **Miya Osamu:** _what_

 **Bokuto Koutarou:** _needed u to not leave_

 **Bokuto Koutarou:** _can u bring onigiri_

 **Bokouto Koutarou:** _\+ backread n tell tsum-tsum_

 **Bokuto Koutarou:** _we need his help_

 **Miya Osamu:** _no and no_

**Miya Osamu has left the chat**

**Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _Bokuto-san, please condense your messages._

 **Hinata Shoyo:** _what do we do?_

 **Hoshiumi Korai:** _k who's gonna take one for the team and sprain their ankle for real_

* * *

**From: Samu**

_hey_

**From: Samu**

_answer or im calling ma_

**To: Samu**

_fuck u what do u want_

**From: Samu**

_stop ignoringyour friends. you don't have many_

**To: Samu**

_fuck u u cant tell me what to do im older_

**To: Samu**

_btw i need more food_

**From: Samu**

_starve_

* * *

"No way…"

"Sh, they can hear us."

"Yes, we can hear you."

Iwaizumi wondered when he'd apparently adopted masochism as a personality trait.

Because Hanamaki and Matsukawa were at the restaurant first and having them stand to sit on opposite sides of the booth would be too obvious, Iwaizumi and Oikawa sat on the same side. If Iwaizumi weren't a part of this situation and literally anybody else, he would've found their seating arrangement oddly humorous; while Hanamaki and Matsukawa sat normally, maybe a bit closer than most people would because they were dating, Oikawa was on the verge of falling off and Iwaizumi was desperately trying to meld with the wall.

Iwaizumi had really thought this would be a good idea, and now he didn't know if he could trust his ability to rationalize things. A part of him blamed Oikawa for accepting; this was honestly as much his fault as it was his own, he thought. Even if Iwaizumi had known that Oikawa would say yes, it was still Oikawa's fault for being predictable.

The restaurant wasn't very far from the hospital, and so Iwaizumi had suggested walking. He was relieved when Oikawa agreed; the silence and proximity of sitting in a car seemed like an awful prospect and at least as they walked, there were other sounds to focus on. He spent the entire walk wondering what earthly force had come over him to propose this as an idea; Iwaizumi thought that maybe he'd been overcompensating for Oikawa's last dig at him. In an attempt to come off as the mature one, he had overextended into a territory that neither of them were ready for but too prideful to admit.

When the waitress came by for their order, Iwaizumi couldn't help but notice that Oikawa had a hand on his knee and seemed to be massaging it. He waited until she left to dryly comment on it. Oikawa had shot him a look.

"Don't worry. It just acts up once in a while. It's fine."

Iwaizumi didn't buy it, tried to think back to earlier in the day and if Oikawa had shown signs of discomfort. He frowned. "Why did you agree to walking then?"

"Because," Oikawa answered plainly, "like I said, it just acts up. I can't predict when it does."

"What if walking made it worse?"

"Living makes it worse," Oikawa said dryly. "It's my knee, so I know how to deal with it. Trust me, Iwaizumi, I know how to do my job much more consistently than you seem to do yours."

"You're-!"

"Hey look, edamame," Hanamaki interrupted, sliding the small bowl towards Iwaizumi, who barely managed to catch it in time. He glared at him with a scowl and Hanamaki smirked at him in return, mouthed _you're welcome_ and Iwaizumi had no idea what he was supposed to be thankful for.

"So, Oikawa," Matsukawa said, "tell us about yourself."

Oikawa's lips carried a lopsided smile and amusement twinkled in his eyes, two things that Iwaizumi realized he hadn't seen from him until this precise moment. It annoyed him, and he picked up one of the edamame to eat, biting down harshly as Oikawa answered in a more lighthearted voice. "Mattsun, you sound like an interviewer."

"I mean, this kind of is an interview," Hanamaki replied with a smirk. "Haven't seen or talked to you in… what, almost nine years now? For all we know, you could be a whole different person. And Iwaizumi tells us nothing about you."

"That's because he knows nothing," Oikawa smiled. "Sorry, Makki. I'm not quite comfortable divulging personal information among all individuals present—"

"Jesus Christ," Iwaizumi grumbled, knitting his brow. "Then why'd you come? You could've just said no, asshole."

"Because," Oikawa answered without missing a beat, "I suppose the one thing we do share in common is that brief optimism that we could be civil. But, well, there's a reason man and beast are so separated, right?"

Iwaizumi tensed; he could see Matsukawa sit forward across from him, peeling his back from the vinyl. He heard his name in a low voice and Iwaizumi took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax and waving off his obvious concern. "Fuck off, Oikawa. You can act all as high and mighty as you want, but everyone knows what you're really like. It's just a matter of time."

Oikawa laughed quietly and Iwaizumi tensed; he'd heard every single one of Oikawa's laughs and knew what they meant and in general, Oikawa's quietest reactions were some of his most dangerous.

It was hard to hate Oikawa when he was treating his team in front of him, working so hard and so tirelessly. It was hard to hate the person who had to be doing everything he could to keep his emotions in check when he wasn't exactly known for processing what he felt in a reasonable and mature manner to help others. Most of all, it was hard to hate someone who Iwaizumi found absolutely exhausting to hate all the time because love or hate, his heart was always bursting from something for Oikawa.

But it was easy to hate Oikawa when he was being so fucking _annoying_.

Oikawa's laugh had settled into a light smile, eyes dark as he turned to face Iwaizumi. "I suppose that's another difference we have, that I'm able to hide what I feel when you can't help but wear it on your face. That's been reflected in our time spent working together; no wonder you've been bringing your team to me."

Their table jostled with the sudden movement and Matsukawa was just barely able to stop Iwaizumi in time, hissing his name as he grabbed Iwaizumi's cocked fist. " _Stop_ ," he warned and Hanamaki just sighed, looking bored.

Iwaizumi's fist was still shaking and he wasn't sure if it was because he was trying to not punch him or because he was fighting against Matsukawa's grip to let him do so. He bit a swear and jerked his hand out of Matsukawa's grip, sitting down after releasing Oikawa's shirt, shoving him slightly as he did so. Oikawa's smirk never faltered; if anything, it only widened at Iwaizumi's reaction. "I'm fine," he grumbled in a strained voice, crossing his arms. "He's not worth it."

"I'd like to remind you both that we're still in public," Hanamaki said with a sigh. "Man, I hope our food comes soon…"

Looking at them tiredly like they were misbehaving children, Hanamaki leaned forward and rested his chin in his palm. "Guys, come on. We're not asking you to talk about all your repressed feelings and the obvious ways you two have decided to deal with them," Hanamaki said, ignoring both of their glares. "But we used to be friends. We used to be _best_ friends. You two have to work together, wouldn't it be nice to have to work with someone who you don't actually want to punch?"

"He-!"

"Yes, but this is Oikawa," Hanamaki explained calmly, giving Iwaizumi a pitying nod. "He's a known asshole."

Oikawa huffed and Hanamaki stared at him incredulously. "Oikawa, you're good with words, but there's no way you can argue your way out of that truth."

Iwaizumi scowled and crossed his arms, looking out the window, his heart still beating furiously in his chest. "I'm not speaking to him. Fuck him."

"Again?" he heard. "Is that the real reason you asked me to dinner?"

Matsukawa was quicker this time, pressing a hand to Iwaizumi's chest before he'd even fully pulled his fist back. Oikawa laughed quietly under his breath and Hanamaki gave a deep sigh, rubbing his face. "God… I just wanted some ramen…"

"Oikawa," Matsukawa said and Oikawa frowned, looking over. "Apologize."

He wrinkled his nose. "Mattsun, you know I'm not going to do that."

"Fuck his apology."

"See? It wouldn't even matter. You know, I'll admit that he's pretty mature, but wouldn't you expect someone like that to still be that way when it really matters? What's the saying… doesn't matter how many battles you win if you lose the war?"

Iwaizumi twitched but managed to keep from reacting again, knowing that Oikawa was purposely trying to get a rise of him. He could feel Matsukawa's wary gaze on him; Iwaizumi took a deep breath and chose to train his eyes on the newspaper stand visible just through the window. He knew what Oikawa was trying to do and hated that he had reacted; he supposed that the way he still knew Oikawa, Oikawa still knew him. Iwaizumi had always been easy to get a reaction from and as long as he kept doing so, Oikawa would still have that power over him.

"But that's just how some people are, you know? Iwaizumi's told me that I can be unnecessarily cruel and, well," Oikawa smiled and shrugged, "yeah, I can. But see, the thing is that when I'm being cruel, I know I am. He can be too, but he doesn't even realize it. Did he ever tell you that he threw the fact that all of my relationships before him were short in my face?"

"Oikawa," Hanamaki said tiredly, "look, I'm glad you're talking about this, but I'm really hungry—"

"I mean, that's just _mean_. He never even apologized for that—really, who does that? Tell me, Iwaizumi," he said, turned to him and raised his chin and narrowed his eyes. "I mean, you have to have known _why_ they were all so short, right? You can't be that stupid and dense, otherwise I'm just ashamed of myself for ever even considering you a friend."

Iwaizumi would admit that one hurt; he couldn't help but physically wince. He'd regretted a lot of the things he said when he and Oikawa fought; even if Oikawa said hurtful things, his relationship with Oikawa had never been one where _if you hurt me, I get to hurt you back_. He'd eventually figured it out because Oikawa, as flirty and shallow as he seemed, would never date people just to mess with their feelings; the only reason his relationships would be short would be because he'd have feelings for someone else.

He'd felt terrible upon realizing that because chances were, that someone else was him.

"Fine," Iwaizumi snapped, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry. Are you happy?"

"Happy?" Oikawa echoed. "I hadn't realized you knew how to tell jokes. You know, Iwaizumi, I have a lot of regrets. But my biggest regret is that _you_ were the one I grew up with—"

"Oikawa," Matsukawa interrupted this time, "maybe this isn't—"

"Of everyone, it had to be you," Oikawa continued and Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed; it was slight, but he could hear that Oikawa's voice was no longer perfectly even and calm. There was legitimate emotion behind his words this time and he wasn't just talking to get a rise out of him.

"You've build yourself up to be so perceptive, but where is that when it's something important? I don't think it's farfetched of someone to expect you to be able to continue to read them as you always have and know what they're thinking and _not_ hurt them; I also didn't take you to be one to not think about consequences of your actions and risk things that are precious. But best of all, when someone needs you the most, you just _disappear_ on them. Doing it to me is one thing… doing it to Sakusa-san is another, but even to Tsumu-chan?"

Oikawa's gaze hardened and Iwaizumi's breath caught in his throat; he made the accident of catching Oikawa's eye in the reflection of the window, watched him smirk, heard the slight lilts disappear from his voice.

"Surely you're not taking out your anger at me on him, right? He says he asked you not to come, but, let's face it, Tsumu-chan and I have our similarities, don't we? I'd think that after being my friend for almost two decades, you'd be able to tell when he really wants space and when he's just scared to be reaching out. Poor Tsumu-chan…" Oikawa sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Because apparently for Iwaizumi, ruining one person's volleyball career wasn't enough—"

" _Iwaizumi_ —!"

Iwaizumi elbowed Matsukawa away from him this time; their waters toppled over but Oikawa and Iwaizumi had both fallen out of the booth by the time water dripped onto where they'd been sitting. Iwaizumi's left hand had grabbed Oikawa by his shirt and as the momentum from his lunge sent them tumbling, his knuckles ached from how hard they pressed to his sternum.

Iwaizumi was strong and for some reason, people equated that with him fighting a lot. Iwaizumi didn't fight often; Oikawa was generally the only person he'd threaten with violence, and even then, he rarely ever hit him.

That being said, there was no hesitation in the way Iwaizumi brought his right fist to connect solidly with Oikawa's face.

There was just a split-second of nothingness, and then pain shot up his arm from his knuckles at lightning speed. Iwaizumi felt someone grab his arm to pull him off and in the brief moment it took for him to shove them off, Oikawa took the opportunity to hit him. Iwaizumi grunted at the pain exploding in his face and stumbled; Oikawa took advantage of this by pushing him off, and then he was over him. Iwaizumi's back hit the ground so suddenly that the breath was knocked out of him and he didn't have a moment to steady his breathing before Oikawa hit him again, this time harder. Iwaizumi swore and he kicked a leg out to knock Oikawa's out from under him; he was able to successfully knock him off balance and climb over him.

But this time when he pulled his fist back, something was keeping him from hitting Oikawa. Something came over him and Iwaizumi felt like time froze as he stared at Oikawa's face, the beginning of a black eye forming, his nose seeming bruised, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He wasn't even making a move to defend himself; Oikawa was just smirking, taunting and teasing him, and yet Iwaizumi couldn't bring himself to hit him, not when the instance of rage had passed.

He gasped when he felt someone grab his arm so harshly it felt like it was being yanked out of the socket; Iwaizumi was forced to his feet and Matsukawa's hand pushed his back roughly, forcing him out of the restaurant.

"What the—" Iwaizumi snarled, "what the _fuck_ , Matsukawa—I'm gonna fuckin'—"

"What?!" Matsukawa yelled as he shoved Iwaizumi outside, pushed him away again when he tried to head back into the restaurant. The spots where Matsukawa's hands had been on his chest felt like they were on fire and Iwaizumi already knew the dull aches he felt in his face would tell a different story in a few hours. "What are you going to do, Iwaizumi?! Kill him?!"

"He started it-!"

"Oikawa starts everything, he's Oikawa!" Matsukawa snapped and Iwaizumi glowered. "I get you're hurt, Iwaizumi, but seriously, what's hitting him going to solve?! This is what Oikawa does—you're supposed to be the one to—"

"Why the fuck am I the one who's supposed to be mature all the time?!" Iwaizumi yelled back. "Why does he get to be a fucking child about everything, and I don't—"

"You think what just happened in there was mature?!" Matsukawa retorted and Iwaizumi faltered, scowling. "We're not saying you don't get to be hurt or angry, but you see what happens when neither of you thinks about consequences?! Look, if you don't want to be the mature one and reach out, fine! But don't sink down to his level!"

He clenched his fist and winced at the pain shooting up his right arm, loosening his grip. Glancing back at the restaurant, he could see Oikawa sitting up; blood was still pounding through his ears and Iwaizumi turned away.

He was still breathing heavily; Iwaizumi bit his lip and closed his eyes until the world stopped spinning, but he still felt lightheaded. He'd only ever hit Oikawa one time before, and Oikawa hadn't ever hit him back; for every step he thought they were making towards becoming civil, Oikawa would say something that would make it feel like they slid halfway down Mt. Fuji again.

Flexing his fist slowly, Iwaizumi felt a burning in his chest and when he couldn't will Oikawa's face out of his mind, he opened his eyes. His heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest, and Iwaizumi turned, feeling his legs shaking. "I'm going home," he mumbled and wasn't surprised when he heard Matsukawa's footsteps fall in line with his. "…You'll probably follow me regardless of what I say."

His chest burned. His feet fell heavy, his hand felt like it was on fire and submerged in an ice bath at the same time and despite all of this, Matsukawa's breathy chuckle cut through the storm in his ears.

"That's the first smart thought you've had all evening."

* * *

"That hurts."

"Sorry."

He didn't sound very sorry, and Matsukawa's touch wasn't any gentler.

Wincing at the antiseptic stinging in a cut on his lip, Iwaizumi hissed in pain when Matsukawa pulled back. "Oikawa's got a decent punch," he noted and Iwaizumi just glared. Matsukawa raised an eyebrow at his expression. "What? Have to give credit where it's due."

After stopping by a convenience store, they had gone to get some take-out to bring back to Iwaizumi's apartment. Half-finished containers splayed over the table, joining an open bottle of antiseptic, cotton rounds, and gauze. "Oikawa probably looks worse than you. At least you held back though. You feel like telling me why you didn't hit him that second time?"

Iwaizumi scoffed weakly and accepted the offered ice pack, bringing it to his eye and wincing again. "Fuck off."

"That's a good thing," Matsukawa said dryly. "About when you really feel those injuries, you're also going to feel guilty, but at least you can rest easy knowing you didn't break his jaw."

Iwaizumi set the ice pack down to pick up his chopsticks and try to eat more, but the pain in his knuckles let him know that that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. He scowled; Matsukawa watched silently and languidly finished chewing his bite before speaking. "Hand hurt? Shouldn't have punched Oikawa then."

"Shut up," Iwaizumi retorted with a glare. "The shit he said—"

"Yeah, but hitting him?" Matsukawa asked, tone normal but laced with concern. He lowered his container and leaned forward. "That's pretty far for you. I thought you two were getting along fine at work."

He wondered if that's what Sakusa would say too; around him, Iwaizumi was fairly sure they were doing a good job of acting civil and Sakusa didn't know them well enough to pick up on the unspoken communication that someone like Matsukawa would definitely call them out on.

"Fine is a strong way to put it," he mumbled finally, shaking his head and bringing his left hand to an uninjured part of his face. "He'll act fine, but then say something… then go back to acting fine, and it's fucking exhausting. It's like he's baiting me to see when I'll snap—how the fuck's that professional?"

"It's not," Matsukawa answered. "But it's Oikawa. He's got some hidden agenda nobody knows about. But I'm guessing today wasn't that bad if you invited him to dinner."

The afternoon felt like an eternity ago, even though Iwaizumi was fairly sure that he'd last seen Sakusa under three hours ago. With every moment that passed, he was becoming more cognizant of the pain in his face and his hand; it helped only slightly with the guilt that was beginning to take root in his chest.

Iwaizumi knew that some of what Oikawa said was to elicit this exact reaction from him, but some other things he'd said honestly; he swallowed thickly and dropped his gaze to the carpet. "It was getting a little better," he mumbled. "…We can normally tolerate each other. The first few times I couldn't stand to be in the same room, but… if he can, then I guess I have to."

"That was probably his goal," Matsukawa murmured, slating his gaze over. "You do know that you're not bad at your job, right? No matter what he says."

Iwaizumi's brow furrowed. "Some of the things he says—"

"Oikawa's a dick," Matsukawa said firmly. "And he knows it. You're not bad at your job. You didn't fail anyone."

Iwaizumi pressed his lips in a thin line.

"…I failed him, though."

"Over—"

Iwaizumi didn't say anything and Matsukawa stared at him. "Seriously? Come on, Iwaizumi. Don't blame yourself for that."

"It's hard not to," Iwaizumi sighed, left hand carding through his hair. "I mean… fuck Oikawa, but… _fuck_. He lost his entire career and future and I—"

"Oikawa isn't your responsibility," Matsukawa interrupted. "I'm… well, honestly, for a while Hanamaki and I thought you actually didn't care about him anymore, but I guess you still do."

"Of course I do," Iwaizumi said before he could stop himself. "He was my best friend for eighteen years. He could kill someone and even now, if he told me… I'd probably end up helping him get rid of the body because if he asks then... of course. He's never going to be just an ex to me, or even just a friend, he's… he's Oikawa. No matter what happens, he's always going to be Oikawa."

In that split second when he'd had the opportunity to hit Oikawa again, he found he couldn't.

The first punch had been purely fueled by anger, an immediate reflex to all of Oikawa's jesting. But the second was more of a willing choice because he'd gotten all his rage out with the first hit; when presented with another opportunity that wasn't overridden with adrenaline and emotion, Iwaizumi found that if he had time for a choice, he wouldn't hit him—because this was Oikawa and as annoying as he was, he was _Oikawa_. He couldn't bring himself to hit him again and he could already see the beginnings of what would be a nasty black eye on his face from a punch that Iwaizumi had delivered.

In that split second, Iwaizumi couldn't make sense of what was going through his mind. But now that he was back in the quiet of his apartment and comfort of Matsukawa's presence, he found he could focus on feeling his heart beating, hearing the blood rushing through his ears. In that moment when he'd looked at Oikawa, he didn't see the Oikawa who hated and riled him up. It was the first time he really _looked_ at Oikawa. He wasn't glancing at him or observing for a reaction; he was _looking_ at Oikawa, and Oikawa was grinning so viciously that Iwaizumi realized only now that what he felt wasn't his heart beating rapidly; it was his heart shattering.

Because Oikawa had never looked at him like that; he'd never seen Oikawa look at someone with that much malice. In that moment, it dawned on him just how much Oikawa hated him and how much he'd been repressing; for every comment he let slip, there were at least five more cutting ones he held back. Oikawa truly, wholly _hated_ him and just as he realized that, Iwaizumi found that he didn't hate him, not now, not ever, and not at all.

Missing Oikawa was something that had taken even Iwaizumi years to properly admit to himself and only in the safety of late hours, when everyone was asleep and nobody could hear him, a thought he could barely bring into existence. Even then, he'd whisper it as he hugged his knees to his chest; missing Oikawa felt like such a betrayal of every other emotion in his body because it felt as if Oikawa had broken the very core of Iwaizumi's identity, but his body still ached for him.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd touched him or hugged him or kissed him; Iwaizumi wracked his brain to remember when the last time was, because they'd been fighting so much by the end that he couldn't even remember holding Oikawa's hand, feel his soft palm against his own, his slender fingers intertwined with his own. He suddenly had no memory of feeling Oikawa's body pressed to his, arms wrapped around each other so tightly until they couldn't breathe. He had absolutely no memory left of Oikawa's physical experience, after eighteen years of almost always some part of their body touching.

He missed the scent of Oikawa's shampoo and his cologne; he missed feeling Oikawa's body against his back, when he'd jump on him suddenly and with no warning, Iwaizumi never failing to catch him. He missed being why Oikawa would smile after pouting. He missed turning bright red when Oikawa would kiss his cheek, wished he'd been bold enough to return his kisses more often back then.

He missed feeling his heart leap when Oikawa would perk up to see him. He missed being why Oikawa was happy, knowing that out of everyone in the world, Oikawa had chosen him.

There were plenty of things that Iwaizumi knew from the very start but didn't allow himself to recognize it until painfully later, and when he saw Oikawa that night, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew instantly.

He'd look at Oikawa and remember feeling his mouth all over his body and the way he looked at him that night, alcohol blurring both of their visions but Oikawa's expression still so clearly burned into his mind. He'd hear Oikawa and immediately think of when he used to call him _Iwa-chan_ , how he'd never admitted it but secretly loved the nickname that only Oikawa ever called him. He'd accidentally brush Oikawa's hand when they were helping Sakusa with the exercises, and feel his entire body light up like a meteorite shower.

He'd feel all of this at once and look at Oikawa and see nothingness in his expression and it took everything for Iwaizumi to return that facade.

'"…He was my best friend," Iwaizumi said quietly, hearing his voice crack at the end. "I miss him. I don't know if we can ever be as close as we once were, but I miss having him in my life. Nobody… has ever come close to him."

Matsukawa nodded. "…Yeah."

Iwaizumi's lip was warm and throbbing, as was his eye. His cheek ached, and it would intensify when he tried to move his mouth. Oikawa had never punched him; that first hit had stunned him; he'd felt numb and alive at the same time. But when he saw the look in his eyes, Iwaizumi's heart had plummeted to his stomach; there had been a time where he knew Oikawa better than anyone, could tell exactly what he was thinking. It may have been nine years, but there were things that Oikawa still wouldn't be able to hide.

Oikawa was intense, but even so, Iwaizumi had always held onto the belief that he was a kind person at his core. But the way he was looking at Iwaizumi felt like multiple lifetimes worth of hatred concentrated in that one moment. In that moment, all Iwaizumi could focus on was that he'd spent years missing someone who didn't miss him, not one bit, not at all.

It wasn't until then, he thought, that he realized just how badly he hurt Oikawa.

Iwaizumi hadn't taken a hit to his chest, but his heart ached.

A neighbor's television sounded a peal of laughter. Another neighbor started vacuuming. A third shrieked loudly and Iwaizumi swallowed thickly.

"I loved him," Iwaizumi said quietly, swallowing thickly. Something hot was pressing to the back of his eyes and he rubbed at them, ignored the pain that lighted his cheek. The stinging persisted.

Matsukawa glanced over and offered a gentle smile. "…Yeah."

Iwaizumi inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "…You promise to not tell him this?"

"Sure."

A car honked. A door slammed shut. An alarm went off.

Iwaizumi opened his eyes, focused his eyes on the empty takeout bag on his floor, remembered high school, when he and Oikawa would get takeout from three restaurants and stay up all night trying to finish everything before their parents came home and yelled at them about wasting food.

He remembered middle school, when it had been raining but they wanted to practice volleyball and broke not only a vase but two windows and were banned from seeing each other for three weeks—one of the longest times they'd gone without seeing each other. They'd enlisted their friends' help to get some walkie talkies and would stay up late at night, talking to each other under the covers. When their parents found out, they had yelled, but ultimately shortened the punishment by a few days.

He remembered when they were just kids, sleeping over and reading comics and playing games by flashlight under the blankets, when they were supposed to be sleeping, how even then, he'd found himself watching the way Oikawa breathed in and breathed out so peacefully when he was sleeping. How this was one of his earliest memories of Oikawa, how he had always been watching him, burning Oikawa's image and existence into his mind because even before he knew anything at all, he knew Oikawa was precious to him.

Iwaizumi gave a shaky sigh.

"…I think maybe I still do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my original intentions with the dinner scene was for iwaoi to have a civil conversation but before i knew it, i had them brawling on the floor and decided i liked that better 
> 
> thank you for reading! kudos/comments appreciated ♡


	8. took everything from me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "oikawa, lying to you comes way easier than being honest," hanamaki interjected. "you're such a good liar that you actually fool yourself sometimes."

"Good morning Tsumu-chan!"

Atsumu seemed like he was considering walking out of the room, but when Oikawa promised to tell him why he was sporting a bruised nose and black eye, Atsumu acquiesced. He sat back down, albeit slowly, and looked at him expectantly.

_"I made someone mad a few days ago. All right, let's get started!"_

_Atsumu balked. "That's not an explanation!"_

_Oikawa laughed airily in a way that didn't exacerbate his injuries too much, waving his hand. "I didn't promise you a good one."_

Iwaizumi didn't break any of his bones—thank god—but he did leave Oikawa with a noticeable black eye that make up could not help, a bruised nose, half of his bottom lip swollen, and a few cuts, one of which was inside his cheek and made using his mouth painful, but that didn't stop him from talking. The cuts had mostly healed by now, but he still needed a band aid for his nose and he left his eye as it was, wore it as a sort of badge. All in all, it could have been worse; Oikawa knew how strong Iwaizumi had been in high school and he'd only be getting stronger from then, so Oikawa was relieved that he hadn't dislocated his jaw.

_"Oikawa—"_

_"I'm fine, Makki," Oikawa gasped, voice strained as he gingerly touched his nose and winced. "It's probably worse than it looks."_

_Oikawa already knew that was a lie._

_He fluttered the tips of his fingers fleetingly over his face and was relieved that while his cheek felt warm and tender, nothing was sticking out where it shouldn't be. Hanamaki hoisted him up with a hand on his arm and glared at him. "Dumbass," he grumbled, "picking a fight with Iwaizumi, seriously? Should've stuck with words because then maybe you could've won."_

_"A battle of wits is too easy to beat him in," Oikawa answered with a shrug, shaking his head when he was offered a cool rag by a waitress. "I wanted a challenge."_

_"You wanted a death wish," Hanamaki snapped. "Besides, if your goal was to hurt him, why stop when you did?"_

_The shop owner had come over. Hanamaki turned to talk to him and Oikawa stumbled back until he was leaning against the table, ignored the small crowd around them. His throbbing right hand grasped the edge for balance and he brought the other to his face, brushing his fingers along his forehead, right above the bridge of his nose. Swallowing thickly, he moved his hand to touch lightly along the underside of his eye and winced again. Oikawa bowed his head; he wasn't sure why he felt a sudden urge to laugh, though indulging it was worth the ricochet of pain through his body._

_Iwaizumi had never hit him like that; even when he'd headbutted him in middle school, he'd gotten just as equally hurt and they had matching bruises for a week. It had been an odd sense of camaraderie and even though Iwaizumi would also be sporting some bruises now, the context was entirely different. Oikawa had pissed him off—it was on purpose but truthfully, riling Iwaizumi up had always been easy—and even though Oikawa had been much more annoying on a daily basis, Iwaizumi had managed to control his temper back then and only resort to threats he seldom followed through on._

_Oikawa hadn't thought of it as hurting Iwaizumi, despite what Hanamaki had said. It would seem like it, but hurting him had just been an obvious byproduct that Oikawa didn't care to avoid. Ever since he'd seen Iwaizumi, it felt like there was something stifled in his chest, something that made it hard to breathe. It got worse every time Oikawa had to see him and while his snide comments alleviated the pressure slightly, but Iwaizumi's existence made it exponentially worse._

_Even with a bruised nose, tonight was the first night in a long time where Oikawa felt he could take a deep enough breath to fill both lungs with fresh air. It hurt to breathe, but at least he could; he relished the fact and whenever he thought about Iwaizumi's expression, he'd exasperate the injuries on his mouth with a smirk._

_"C'mon. We're banned for life. Couldn't talk my way out of it."_

_"Sorry about that, Makki," Oikawa said, though he didn't sound very apologetic. He felt Hanamaki's hand on his shoulder and straightened from the table, keeping his head down as they left. He was limping, leg a bit sore from where Iwaizumi had kicked him to force him off-balance, but he shook his head when Hanamaki asked if he needed support walking. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa were gone; Oikawa had expected that, but a small part had hoped that he was still there because adrenaline was still rushing through his veins._

_"Oi, Oikawa…"_

_"I told you," he shook his head slowly, and yet still felt a bit dizzy, steps slowing until his head cleared. "They're superficial wounds if anything, just bruises. My nose isn't broken, it'll be fine—"_

_"No, honestly… I'm worried that you haven't stopped smiling. It's… creepy, actually."_

_Oikawa faltered and he smiled again, but this time knowingly. He looked up to meet Hanamaki's gaze. "Sorry, Makki. I know you and Mattsun keep hoping that Iwaizumi and I will be friends again, but it's not going to happen."_

_Hanamaki regarded him warily and shook his head with a tired shrug. His stomach audibly growled and he sighed, rubbing it as they kept walking. "We expected that, but we didn't think you two would be this bad."_

_Oikawa hummed, crossed his arms delicately. Hanamaki's tone was even, but the fatigue was apparent. "Honestly, I don't think it's very fair that you say_ I'm _the asshole when Iwaizumi was acting-"_

_"Just because you're an asshole doesn't mean Iwaizumi isn't," Hanamaki interrupted. He faltered for a moment and Oikawa watched the way he pressed his lips into a thin line. Hanamaki looked over; his eyes were narrowed, but he wasn't glaring, and Oikawa didn't appreciate the twisting feeling in his chest._

_"...And, honestly, I don't even know if I know who you are anymore," he said. He'd stopped walking and Oikawa mirrored him; he watched something flicker in Hanamaki's expression and blinked._

_"...Sorry?"_

_"I haven't seen you in nine years," Hanamaki said quietly and slowly, shrugging. "And that's because of you. You and Iwaizumi? You both fucked up. You and me and Hanamaki? We tried. We reached out. You cut us off. You ghosted us. That's entirely on you."_

_Oikawa tensed; Hanamaki was right, but he couldn't help but feel annoyed anyway. "I-"_

_"I know why you did it, but it doesn't mean it hurts any less for us. And you just come back and everything's fine? Yeah, we can talk like we used to, but we're still kind of pissed at you. But I don't know anything that's happened to you in the last nine years. I don't know if I can talk sense into you the way I used to be able to because I don't know how much you've changed. Although," Hanamaki shrugged, "based on tonight, not much, since you still rile people up and hit them where it hurts-"_

_"Iwaizumi started-!"_

_The way Hanamaki looked at him was enough for Oikawa to stop talking immediately. He clicked his tongue and folded his arms over his chest again. "...Fine," he said tightly. "You have a point about you and Mattsun being rightfully mad at me."_

_Hanamaki shrugged weakly and they started walking again. "I gotta say, hearing that isn't as satisfying as I thought it would be," he mumbled and Oikawa huffed. "And also, about Iwaizumi…"_

_Oikawa tensed to hear his name again and forced his muscles to relax and not show the way his heart rate picked up. He clenched his fists and kept them hidden in his pocket, focused on his steps, making sure they were still even and in line with Hanamaki's._

_"I'm not saying Iwaizumi's faultless," he heard Hanamaki say. "He's being petty as shit too, but so are you and Iwaizumi can't_ always _be the one to reach out and smooth things over, especially when you're being like this. You two gotta meet each other halfway. You're both in the wrong, but, fuck, man, I just wanted some ramen, I wasn't gonna lay into both of you, do you know how long that would take?" he grumbled, pushing his hair back and shaking his head. "And besides, I know Iwaizumi. I can ride him as hard as I want, but for all I know, you're a whole new person. But if you're close to who you were in high school, you're probably still the kind of person who'll just disappear if I push too hard. Iwaizumi's got more rational thought and can actually achieve some critical thinking if I give him enough information."_

_Oikawa bristled immediately and felt anger surge through him; this time he didn't try and hide his physical reaction. "I'm not stupid-"_

_"You're not," Hanamaki agreed and Oikawa fell silent because the sudden change in his tone and expression had dread bubbling in his chest. "...But look at how seriously you just took that, just because you're in this mindset where if I say something negative about you, you think I'm saying something positive about Iwaizumi. It's impossible to talk to you right now if that's your knee-jerk reaction. You take things a lot more personally and it's harder to get you to see things objectively. Don't worry, though," Hanamaki waved a hand easily. "I'll tell you off when the time's right."_

_Oikawa frowned. He didn't like the sound of that and the looming promise._

_"You're thinking of running away right now, aren't you?"_

_"...I didn't say that."_

_Hanamaki sighed and shook his head, keeping his hands in his pocket as they started walking home. As the adrenaline gradually began to wear off, Oikawa still felt like he was in high spirits as they approached the junction where they'd split off. He bade a cheerful goodbye and hadn't taken a single step when Hanamaki tiredly called out a 'hey.'_

_"…Isn't it tiring? To keep acting like you hate him?"_

_Oikawa furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Sorry?"_

_"You and Iwaizumi," Hanamaki continued, "because it's pretty exhausting to watch you keep telling yourself that you hate him."_

_"What's this, Makki's inside my brain now?" Oikawa asked easily. "I'm not lying—"_

_"Oikawa, lying to you comes way easier than being honest," Hanamaki interjected. "You're such a good liar that you actually fool yourself sometimes."_

He and Hanamaki had been texting since that night. Oikawa pretended to be annoyed at how demanding Hanamaki was, but he did enjoy re-establishing one of his closest friendships. He promised to hang out with just him and Matsukawa the next time he had a night off, reassured them that as long as Iwaizumi wasn't there, he'd behave himself. He never apologized directly and as adrenaline from his fight with Iwaizumi wore off, it allowed Oikawa to realize the coiling in his chest was guilt. He'd kept sending Hanamaki and Matsukawa food and was better than ever at replying, until one day Hanamaki told him to stop sending food and that was the unspoken _we forgive you._

Oikawa had dismissed Hanamaki's last words of the night; he'd always been a bit weird, which Oikawa normally was fine with, but he didn't bring it up again. Maybe Hanamaki had been hungry to the point of delirium; once he got home, Oikawa had delivered some ramen to Hanamaki's apartment as well as his own, and they'd eaten together over a video call.

_"Not used to you actually paying for food," Hanamaki grumbled, slurping the noodles loudly._

_Oikawa laughed. "I'm an adult now, Makki. Lots has changed."_

Whenever Hanamaki asked him why he'd purposely pissed Iwaizumi off, Oikawa would play off the question, answer that he'd been just teasing, and how was _he_ supposed to know that Iwaizumi couldn't take a joke?

(They both knew that he knew exactly what he was doing.)

Oikawa purposely chose to present himself in a way that made it difficult to really know how he felt. For most of his life, only Iwaizumi had been able to know what he was truly feeling at any given time. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, was just about as honest as anyone could be. He wore his feelings so clearly and never sugarcoated anything; that honesty had led a lot of people to look up to him, to Oikawa's chagrin, and had also grounded Oikawa when he was getting a little too lost in his own personality.

It didn't take being friends for almost twenty years for Oikawa to know how Iwaizumi would react and had confirmed that Iwaizumi really hadn't changed since high school.

He'd been caught off guard when Iwaizumi asked him to dinner and hoped that he was able to play it off—if Iwaizumi could extend the invitation, it would be too obviously petty of Oikawa to decline it. He had quickly recalled that day; it was tense, as it always was, but they did seem to be getting along better. Oikawa supposed that if Iwaizumi could be mature enough to ask him to dinner, the least he could do was to appear to also be at that level; Oikawa was never one to be outdone, even by Iwaizumi.

But sometime during their walk, something changed, and Oikawa was no longer concerned about maintaining his image of maturity.

Maybe it was the reminiscing, maybe it was the nostalgia. He'd been at Iwaizumi's side countless times, but that had always been as his friend, not as exes with thinly veiled disgust towards each other. Almost an entire decade had elapsed, and it felt like they were universes apart. Oikawa felt like he barely knew Iwaizumi anymore, and certainly, Iwaizumi didn't know him anymore. Iwaizumi's reflexes and habits were easy to pick up on; Oikawa could still tell when he was about to get mad before his brow furrowed or his eyes narrowed, but sometimes he'd stare at him and have no idea what to expect—and he hated that.

Oikawa could separate his professional and personal feelings when it was necessary, like when he was directly dealing with Atsumu or Sakusa, but outside of that, he couldn't help his little off-handed remarks, spoken for the sole purpose of irking Iwaizumi. It reminded him that while Oikawa had grown and changed as a person, Iwaizumi hadn't; he wanted Iwaizumi still the same person he'd known in high school, because he hated that person.

Iwaizumi's surprising show of maturity in the dinner proposal caught him off guard and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and so at dinner, Oikawa _had_ to prove that Iwaizumi was still action over thought, impulse over control, rash over composed. And when he had pushed him so far as to violence, Oikawa was finally satisfied.

"How's your knee feeling?" Oikawa asked. Out of habit, he reached a hand up to adjust his glasses when he felt them sliding down his nose and immediately grimaced. Atsumu scoffed and Oikawa almost wrinkled his nose at him, managing to catch himself in time. "Unsurprisingly, I prefer to not be wearing contacts when I have a black eye, so yes, Tsumu-chan, I am wearing my glasses and I forgot about my nose. You wouldn't want me to treat you while half blind, would you?"

Atsumu was pouting slightly as he glared at Oikawa. Though Oikawa hadn't met him personally prior to his accident, he could tell that the quiet, withdrawn Atsumu who had showed up for his first appointment wasn't the Atsumu who played on the national team. He was still mostly silent at his second appointment, but Oikawa could see more of his personality, the way his nose wrinkled at Oikawa's antics, the way his eyes narrowed at Oikawa's teases, and the way he carried himself. His shoulders weren't rounded anymore and when sitting, he sat just a bit straighter.

Only a week had passed, but in Oikawa's experience, a lot could change in a week. While this Atsumu's personality was slightly more annoying, at least he wasn't as passive and frustrating as the one who seemed ready to throw away his entire career. Oikawa seemed to hold the same amount of annoyance and jealousy for him, it was just shifted to different reasons this week. As with the first session, Oikawa had spent the night before compartmentalizing his feelings; as his treatment progressed, Atsumu would be coming in more often, and Oikawa was wondering if he should take up some kind of a calming hobby to help with the rising annoyance he already felt.

Knitting, maybe.

"…'s better," Atsumu mumbled and Oikawa's lips twitched at the twang of his accent. "Anyway, let's just start already. Ya already had me waste a whole week!"

Oikawa laughed cheerfully, bending down to Atsumu and balancing himself on his good knee. "I don't think a week mentally preparing yourself is a waste, Tsumu-chan. I'm going to test your knee's range of motion, so don't kick me, okay? Or, I suppose if you must, leave my face alone."

Pressing his palm to the back of Atsumu's calf gently, Oikawa began lifting his leg slowly. "Now, I'd tell you to tell me to stop when it hurts, but you athletes are all the same."

Atsumu yelped with laughter and Oikawa twitched. _So obnoxious._ "As if you were any differ—"

"Good," Oikawa interrupted, setting his leg back down. "That's just about where it should be at this stage. You're already starting off well."

Standing, Oikawa pretended he didn't notice Atsumu staring at him; he grabbed a pen and jotted down a few things in his notes, being extra wordy just to unnerve Atsumu and keep him waiting. "So," he said, retracting his pen with a sharp click and looking up, "it's only been a few weeks post-surgery, so we're starting off slow. Now, I know you'll be tempted to impress me, but don't push yourself—"

"How long?" Atsumu asked immediately and Oikawa tilted his head, still smiling but a bit more strained, twitching at being interrupted. "It's not seriously gonna take half a year, right?"

"At least three months," Oikawa answered easily and managed to keep his expression neutral at his scowl. "But it will take close to six months for you to feel fully back to normal, and that's _if_ you listen to exactly what I say."

Atsumu groaned; he brought his hands up to his face as his head fell back and with his eyes covered, Oikawa took the chance to wrinkle his nose and glare at him. He reached into his phone to check an email he'd received from Atsumu's doctor to scan; his doctor had assured him the prognosis was still good and he was cleared for the gentle exercises that Oikawa had proposed, but he wanted to be extra cautious.

Oikawa could tell that Atsumu was staring at him again; he was about as obvious as Kuroo was, but more annoying about it. Oikawa pocketed his phone and brought another chair over to use for the first exercise when Atsumu finally spoke.

"How long did yer rehab take?"

Oikawa hadn't been looking at Atsumu when he asked the question, which made it easier to play off his surprise. Even though he'd been expecting a question like this, his heart leapt to his throat and he bought himself time by taking care to arrange the chair perfectly. He ignored the way his chest seized, reminded himself that Atsumu was a patient, and if he were a patient, he'd likely have the same question.

 _When_ he was a patient, he clarified in his mind. He'd been surprised (and grateful) at Atsumu's initial lack of personal questions; he didn't quite seem the sensitive type, and Oikawa assumed that he was too busy wallowing in his emotions to formulate obvious questions for Oikawa.

He was already beginning to miss Wallowing Atsumu.

 _Longer, because my injury was far worse than yours_ was on the tip of his tongue, but Oikawa physically bit down on it until the urge to snap at him passed. _He's a patient. He's a patient. He's a patient._

"Nine months," he answered finally.

Silence.

"Oh, s'that it? Thought you were gonna gimme a speech."

Oikawa smiled but kept his eyes averted and didn't offer a response. Atsumu was watching as he gently helped him to raise his leg. "Let me know if it hurts."

"Yer just ignorin' me?!"

"You didn't really ask something for me to answer," Oikawa answered in an easy tone. "Besides, I'm not sure why you'd care about my recovery. The situation was different and for most people, it would only depress them. Or is that the goal, you want to make me sad? That's not very nice of you, Tsumu-chan."

Atsumu scowled; he leaned forward and slapped Oikawa's hand away. Oikawa managed to hide his surprise but he rested his hands in his lap and looked up impassively. "Have I upset you, Tsumu-chan?" he asked evenly.

"I get this's gotta be hard for ya," Atsumu growled and Oikawa couldn't help but narrow his eyes at his tone. "But this is yer job, ya know. Yer supposed to help me, which includes answerin' my questions. I've asked nothin' that's outta line to answer—"

"And so you think you have the ultimate decision on what _I'm_ obligated to reply?" Oikawa asked tersely. "You asked for a recovery time frame, I gave you one. You asked for _my_ recovery timeframe, which has no bearing on yours, given the differing severities of our injuries—I don't owe you anything."

Oikawa's eyes hardened.

"You're within your right to ask for another therapist, if you'd like."

Oikawa stood and turned, kept his trembling hands out of Atsumu's view and grasped one of the balance bars to steady them as he leaned his weight against the railing. When it came to his knee, Oikawa had gone from shock to anger overnight, and when he'd disappeared, he managed to repress all his sadness and use it only to motivate him to work harder. He had figured out how to use it strategically for so long that he almost forgot how overwhelming the feeling had been, but with Atsumu in front of him, it was impossible to ignore the burning pit in his stomach, that instinctual, horrible feeling he felt when he realized just how dire his injury was and how his career had been over for months by that point.

It drove him crazy, and this seemed to be one of the few times where he wasn't able to compartmentalize his way through something that he'd rather not think about.

Everything he'd said and done for Atsumu had been textbook; Oikawa had been extra careful because he refused to let any mistake happen, no matter how small, because not only was he excellent, he was _so_ excellent that he could treat the exact injury that took him out of volleyball and do it perfectly. That's how good he was. That's how good people would know he was. He'd prove to everyone, including Iwaizumi, that he didn't need him by his side to be forever; it might be petty and he may not ever be able to move on, but Oikawa was all about exceeding expectations. If someone called him something, he'd exaggerate it.

Oikawa just forgot that in order to establish that reputation, going through the actual work would be absolutely maddening.

"Yeah… 'm not gonna do that."

Eyes fluttering open, Oikawa took a moment to remember where he was. He'd gripped the bar so tightly that his right hand was throbbing again; that was the first hand he relaxed, left following after a moment and he looked over his shoulder to see Atsumu staring at his knee. He caught Oikawa's eye and shrugged.

"Sorry. But yer gonna have'ta hand me off, 'cause I'm not gonna. I'm bein' selfish, but Iwaizumi-san said I can't do any better than ya. I don't like or respect ya, but I respect him."

The mention of Iwaizumi's name left Oikawa breathless and he turned to be facing him; his breathing felt shallow, but he was able to give a lopsided smile. "…Is that so? You're talking to him at last?"

"If I didn't, he'd just bust my door down, 'nd I kinda like havin' one. But yeah," Atsumu shrugged. "I mean, he's right."

Atsumu paused and stared at him.

"…Right?"

Oikawa held his gaze for several moments. When his file had first come across his desk, he was given the opportunity to decline, but Oikawa cheerfully reassured them that it was fine. It would happen eventually, he said, and if anything, his personal experience would make him the best to treat torn ACLs.

And it was true; when Oikawa didn't have to see Atsumu, he'd make lists and lists of reasons why this was a good idea and why he could absolutely handle it. He'd done this after the breakup too, making lists of why it wasn't his fault and why they just weren't meant to be and why it had been the right thing to do and lost their friendship over. He'd especially done this for Iwaizumi after seeing him again, making lists and lists and _lists_ of why Iwaizumi hadn't changed, why he was justified in hating him, why the breakup was his fault, why the loss of their friendship had been his fault.

Oikawa made so many lists that it was amazing he kept them separate, but as soon as he was put in the situation, he'd forget them all because no matter how hard he tried, his heart would always win out in the end, even if his mind didn't realize it yet.

Licking his lips, Oikawa nodded.

"…Yeah," he said and cleared his throat. "He's right."

He took a deep breath. "Well, all right, then. In that case, I'm just going to ask one thing of you."

Atsumu frowned. "…That sounds kinda threatening, not gonna lie."

"It is," Oikawa answered, giving a slight smirk. "I'll do my best, but that means you have to as well. You _have_ to give it your all."

Atsumu blinked, but he quickly mirrored Oikawa's expression.

"Well, _obviously._ Yer not very bright if ya didn't already know that."

* * *

"You absolute _dumbass_ , no, that's not how it works. Sit out for a week. You try to practice before that, either this ankle's gonna keep you from playing or I will."

It may have been fate, but Hinata actually did end up with a twisted ankle. Iwaizumi had seen it was going to happen before it did; Hinata landed badly, and Iwaizumi was down on the court before he'd even tried to stand back up to keep playing. He grabbed Hinata and pulled him off to the side, glaring at him as he nearly threw him onto the bench and bent down to start taping his joint, snapping at him to stay still, that if he ran back on court to keep playing, it would be a lot worse than a slight sprain.

"But Iwaizumi-san!"

"One week, Hinata," Iwaizumi said, taking a seat next to him on the bench. He eyed him warily; Hinata was small, but he was quick, Iwaizumi could catch him if he tried to run, he just wouldn't be happy about it. "That's it. You do anything, it'll be longer and all your fault."

Hinata whined; he stomped his good foot, but ultimately acquiesced. Iwaizumi glanced over; he stood and left the gym for just a few moments for an ice pack. "Elevate your ankle."

Hinata puffed his cheeks out but obliged, moving to sit at the edge of the bench so that he could lay his leg on it. Iwaizumi took a seat next to his foot and gently placed the icepack on top of the wrapped ankle. "Too cold?"

Hinata shook his head and then when he stopped abruptly to stare at him, Iwaizumi glared tiredly. "You didn't notice until now?"

"No offense, Iwaizumi-san, but… no," Hinata answered and leaned forward, eyes wide. "What happened?"

Iwaizumi sighed; several days had passed since his and Oikawa physically brawled on the uncomfortably sticky floor of a ramen joint, and yet Hinata had managed to not notice until now. Iwaizumi would admit it wasn't entirely his fault; Iwaizumi had been more in and out of practices than usual and the coach was working them extra hard, so it wasn't unreasonable for the team to not have noticed his injuries. "Someone hit me," Iwaizumi sighed. He brought his left hand up and gingerly leaned the mostly uninjured side on it.

Hinata kept staring and Iwaizumi reflexively flexed his right hand.

"And your hand?"

"I hit someone," he answered monotonously.

"The same person?"

"…"

"So you were in a fight?!" Hinata exclaimed with so much fervor that he jostled his ankle, immediately whining in pain. Iwaizumi glared and rested his hand on the ice pack.

"Oi! Do that again, I'll give you something real to whine about!"

"It was an accident!"

When the team members got injured for a stupid reason, Iwaizumi yelled at them. He yelled at them regardless, but when it was a result of something unnecessary (such as Hinata insisting on a few more balls despite having been jumping and running around for almost an hour straight), he yelled extra. Hinata would always blubber apologies, but then he kept doing it; most of the team tended to be like that, and Iwaizumi couldn't fault them. He was familiar with that specific personality type.

The first time Oikawa hurt his knee, Iwaizumi had been with him and yelled until his throat was hoarse and when he couldn't yell anymore, he resorted to glaring until his eyes were bloodshot, at which point he kept glaring because it was probably scarier. The doctor reassured them that it wasn't anything bad, just a sprain, but he would need to rest for a few weeks; ever since then, Oikawa had worn a knee brace. Neither of them needed to verbally confirm why, and Oikawa didn't argue when Iwaizumi started to keep a more watchful eye on him.

When that injury had happened, Oikawa had shut down.

Iwaizumi had started out yelling at him every day when he went to Oikawa's house to drop off missing assignments and copies of his notes after school; Oikawa was always in bed, which Iwaizumi didn't even think twice about until his mother stopped Iwaizumi on his way out after a full week.

_"Hajime-kun, would you mind staying over tonight?"_

_Iwaizumi was surprised; he had no objection—he and Oikawa slept over so often that they treated each other's houses as an extension of their own—and answered that he could. "Is there a reason why? He didn't ask me to, but I don't mind."_

_She'd smiled._

_"I'm… a little worried about Tooru, honestly."_

_Iwaizumi went back home just to pick up what he needed and was back at Oikawa's within an hour. Oikawa was in the same position in bed as earlier when he'd dropped his homework off; Iwaizumi returned to his room and announced that he was staying over, not mentioning it was at his mother's bequest. Oikawa had said nothing; he didn't even move and Iwaizumi spent the rest of the afternoon working on homework and listening to music. Oikawa normally took his desk and Iwaizumi took his bed if they were doing homework in his room, but today Iwaizumi was sitting on the floor, back against the bed so that while he couldn't see him, he'd be right there for when Oikawa decided to talk._

_Iwaizumi had just one of his earphones in, so he was able to hear when Oikawa's mother knocked on the door to let them know dinner was ready. He thanked her and pulled out the earphone, setting it and his phone on top of the textbook he moved from his lap to the floor. "Hey. Come on, dinner," he said, standing and looking at the lump under the blankets. With Oikawa being so silent, Iwaizumi had been extremely productive that afternoon, but between the choice of a proper conversation with his best friend and having to pull an all nighter to finish his reading and homework, Iwaizumi wouldn't even hesitate._

_Oikawa spoke for the first time, voice coming out as a mumble and further stifled by the way he'd cocooned himself in his blankets. "Not hungry."_

_Iwaizumi faltered but he nodded, mumbling 'suit yourself, more for me then' and headed downstairs, greeting his sister. "Oikawa said he's not hungry," Iwaizumi said and took a seat. He watched the way his sister and mother exchange glances and immediately started to frown, a knot twisting in his stomach and appetite suddenly vanishing. "…This… isn't the first time this week he's said that, is it?"_

_Iwaizumi usually tried to be a good guest; he wasn't as brazen as Oikawa was with his family, but tonight he inhaled his food, thanked Oikawa's mother for the meal, and asked if he could take Oikawa's portion up to his room. She smiled. "Of course, Hajime-kun. Thank you."_

_Filling a bowl with rice, vegetables, and meat, Iwaizumi thanked her again and returned to Oikawa's room, steps hurried. "Hey, dumbass," he snapped as soon as he opened the door, Oikawa still not having moved at all, "you gotta eat if you want your knee to heal."_

_Letting the door almost close completely behind him, Iwaizumi walked around the bed; Oikawa had been on the same side almost all day, covers pulled over his head. When Iwaizumi sat down and craned his neck to be able to see him, he frowned at the blankness he saw in his half-lidded eyes. "Hey," he said again, voice gentler and brow knitting. "…I'm getting worried about you, Shittykawa. I brought you food. Your mom made fish, it was really good. Brought you extra vegetables because, well, you've got a vegetable deficiency anyway."_

_He held the bowl up to Oikawa's eye level and even used his hand to fan it a bit, hoped the smell would entice him._

_When that elicited no reaction, Iwaizumi set the bowl and chopsticks down on his nightstand and mumbled 'hey' in a softer tone still, slowly reaching a hand up to draw the covers down slowly. "Oikawa, talk to me," he said once Oikawa's face was revealed. "I'm getting freaked out. You're gonna be fine, you know that, right? It's just a sprain. You're not gonna lose volleyball."_

_Oikawa's eyes finally flickered; he looked directly at Iwaizumi, mumbled 'Iwa-chan' in such a quiet voice that it made Iwaizumi's heart start palpitating. Oikawa had always been fair, but he was even paler now; his eyes had bags under them, and Iwaizumi had personally watched him alternate tea bags and hardboiled eggs to, as he said, keep his eyes from looking like Iwaizumi's._

_He seemed thinner in just one week and Iwaizumi's worry creased his brow even further. "Oikawa," he said, moving closer, "Tooru. Talk to me. What's wrong?" he asked, grip tightening on his blanket._

_Oikawa inhaled shakily and closed his eyes for a moment, opening them and though they weren't blank, Iwaizumi didn't like what was flickering in them. "…I'm scared."_

_"About what?"_

_"…What if my knee gets worse?" Oikawa asked in a tiny voice, eyes looking away again, teeth worrying an obviously bruised part of his lip. "…This time I'll be fine. But… but what if one day in the future it isn't? It's too late? I can't imagine a life without volleyball, Iwa-chan, I can't—"_

_"Hey," Iwaizumi interrupted softly but sternly. "Don't think about that. You can't control the future. You can't control anything, you can only focus on the here and the now. And this here and now is that you're going to be_ fine _, but first thing's first, you have to eat, okay?"_

_Still biting on his bottom lip, Oikawa eventually sighed and nodded. Iwaizumi couldn't help his smile of relief as he watched Oikawa push himself up into a sitting position, letting the blanket fall away and pool around his legs. He picked up the bowl from the nightstand and started eating, bites small and almost tentative. After a few bites, he finally looked at Iwaizumi and huffed weakly. "Is Iwa-chan going to just sit there and watch me?"_

_"Shut up, you're not that interesting. I'm gonna go shower," Iwaizumi said, standing. He had just taken his pajamas out of his backpack and was about to leave his room to head down the hall to the bedroom when he heard Oikawa call his name softly. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Oikawa looking at him, bowl resting in his lap. "Yeah?"_

_"…Sleep with me tonight?"_

_Iwaizumi blinked but nodded._

_"…Yeah."_

_True to an unspoken word, the bowl was empty when Iwaizumi came out of his shower, teeth brushed and ready for bed at just about the earliest time in either of their sleepovers ever. As Oikawa also washed up, Iwaizumi brought the empty bowl downstairs; Oikawa's mother's eyes had lit up and she brought a hand to her chest. "Oh, thank goodness… thank you, Hajime-kun."_

_He'd been perplexed by her reaction. "…He hasn't eaten? All week?"_

_"Only a little… this is the first time he's actually finished a meal. Oh—" she offered a smile and stepped forward to wrap her arms around Iwaizumi. "Don't feel like it's your fault, Hajime-kun. It's Tooru; who knows what's going on in his head?"_

_Iwaizumi did._

_He had thought about it, but for once, he didn't want to push Oikawa before he was ready. Iwaizumi tried to linger when he'd dropped his homework off, but Iwaizumi had learned when Oikawa was ready to be pushed and when he wasn't. These silences were definitely of the latter, but Oikawa had also never been in a situation like this before; his reaction was always to immediately shut down, and usually Iwaizumi would wait until he wanted to talk._

_But this time he had to be forced to talk, and Iwaizumi realized it only too late._

_Oikawa was back in bed by the time Iwaizumi returned; upon entering his room, Iwaizumi closed the door behind him and wordlessly grabbed his laptop from where he'd been sitting. "You wanna watch your stupid drama?" he asked as he climbed into bed and Oikawa smiled faintly, nodding. As he situated himself, Oikawa also shifted his position to be sitting next to him, legs almost touching._

_"Is Iwa-chan caught up?"_

_"Not at all. So you have the thirty seconds it takes me to navigate to the page to catch me up on twelve episodes."_

_Iwaizumi didn't care for dramas at all; it was one of few things that he didn't meet Oikawa halfway on. If he had to sit through a drama, he would; he'd usually end up playing on his phone, to Oikawa's intense displeasure, and then have to suffer through both a drama and Oikawa's whining._

_But tonight, he sat through five entire episodes without once getting distracted. The only time he'd used his phone was to look up a past plot point that he had missed, though by the third episode, Oikawa was talking again, immediately filling Iwaizumi in on what he needed to know. Somewhere between the second and third episode, Oikawa had leaned his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder, and neither of them had said anything about it._

_Somewhere between the third and the fourth episode, Iwaizumi had rested his head on top of Oikawa's, and neither of them said anything about it._

_Somewhere between the fourth and fifth episode, they'd laced their fingers together, and neither of them said anything about it._

_It wasn't weird._

_Maybe it was, Iwaizumi thought, as they finally decided to turn the lights out and go to sleep. But then this would be weird too, sleeping in the same bed, Oikawa's body pressed to his almost from head to toe._

_Or maybe, Iwaizumi thought, but it wasn't for them. They'd grown up together and touches were second nature. They'd been sharing beds before they knew how to walk and while their limit was kissing or anything beyond that, physical contact was so common between them that Iwaizumi didn't think twice about it anymore._

_"Iwa-chan," he heard and he grunted. "…What if—"_

_"You're going to be fine, Oikawa," Iwaizumi said firmly._

_There was a beat of silence._

_"…What if this happens again and I can't play anymore?"_

_Iwaizumi didn't say anything at first; he just took a deep breath and exhaled, felt Oikawa's soft tresses tickling his nose until he readjusted his position, never once disturbing the arm that held Oikawa close. "…I'll be there with you," he said quietly at last, knowing Oikawa was never one for blind optimism. "You're not gonna have to go through it alone."_

_"…What if you're not there? How… am I supposed to survive that?"_

_It was Iwaizumi's turn to chew on his bottom lip; he took a moment to collect himself and hugged Oikawa just a little bit closer for a second._

_"…You'll be okay. You're the strongest person I know, you don't need me to survive anything."_

_He didn't need to see to know Oikawa was smiling._

And after all that, Oikawa had gone through _tearing his ACL_ alone.

After that night, Iwaizumi had been by Oikawa's side dutifully, leaving only for school until Oikawa could go back again. After his knee healed and up until they broke up, Oikawa would always bring up those few weeks, lament how Iwaizumi had been _so nice_ to him, that he was surprised Iwaizumi was capable of such kindness. Iwaizumi had always snapped at him to shut up, and Oikawa would smile, ask if he'd kept up with the drama they'd been watching.

Iwaizumi would begrudgingly admit that he did.

_"It's good, isn't it?! Does Iwa-chan want to watch another one?!"_

_"No."_

They ended up watching three more together.

Iwaizumi was full of questions that Oikawa wouldn't answer even if they were on speaking terms. Knowing his personality and that he seemed to have cut off Matsukawa and Hanamaki, Iwaizumi's stomach dropped to think he had gone through it by himself. Certainly, Oikawa could survive; he was stronger and more independent than anyone he knew, but he knew that bearing all that weight by himself would have consequences that he wasn't sure had hit yet.

Oikawa had always proven to be the impossible, so it just seemed to make sense that Oikawa would be the exception to the one thing Iwaizumi had been so sure of. Thinking about Oikawa made his blood boil, but thinking about a life without him broke his heart. Seeing Oikawa made him clench his fist, looking for him constricted his heart with loneliness. Hearing Oikawa initiated his flight-or-flight response, listening for Oikawa made his heart ache.

All that Iwaizumi could focus on was that Oikawa had gone through the loss of what he loved most in his life, and Iwaizumi was blissfully unaware and just living his normal life. When Oikawa had disappeared, Iwaizumi had done everything he could to not think about it, because thinking about it would drive him insane; he would've been ready to drop everything at once to look for him, had it not been for Oikawa essentially saying 'fuck you' without words the last time they'd seen each other.

Oikawa was an adult, he'd told himself, he was an adult who made his choices and clearly didn't want Iwaizumi in his business anymore.

But Oikawa was Oikawa and Iwaizumi was Iwaizumi. Their names fit perfectly together: _dauntless._ Their birthdays were the birth and death of Alexander the Great. Iwaizumi was his pillar and even if Oikawa had pushed him away, the one time Iwaizumi didn't push back was the one time he absolutely needed to.

Iwaizumi had always felt a responsibility for Oikawa; it had been to the point where sometimes his friends would step in, tell him that while it was kind of him to be so loyal to Oikawa, it wouldn't do either of them any good if Iwaizumi neglected himself for Oikawa. He'd told them that they were being ridiculous, that it had never happened. They said it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

It wasn't that Iwaizumi didn't think Oikawa was strong enough to handle things on his own, but if there was anything at all that Iwaizumi could do for him, he'd be there in an instant. If he had known about Oikawa's knee, there was absolutely no way he would still be choosing his pride; if he'd had _any_ idea, Iwaizumi was certain he would've dropped out to find Oikawa's stupid ass wherever he was.

Maybe that was the sort of over-the-top, self-sacrificial thing his friends warned him he might do.

Maybe there was a line Iwaizumi needed to discover, one between being there for someone and doing so much for them that not only was it doing them a disservice of not fully realizing their own strength, but also eventually damaging himself.

Was it possible to care for someone too much?

Iwaizumi had almost managed to trick himself into believing he didn't care about Oikawa anymore and it had been easy when Oikawa was physically out of his life. But now that Oikawa was here, as long as Iwaizumi knew he was struggling, his heart couldn't help but bleed for him; Iwaizumi felt a lot of things for Oikawa, and recently, a lot of it was anger and annoyance, but never once had he ever felt _nothing_ for him. Hate and love were more closely aligned than he thought; it was when he was apathetic that he could truly say he didn't love him anymore, but the one thing Iwaizumi had never felt for Oikawa was apathy.

He wasn't too clear on what he felt, but it was the furthest thing from nothing.

"Come on, Iwaizumi-san," Hinata whined and Iwaizumi jerked out of his trance. "You won't tell me anything? I can't keep getting coffee with Oikawa-san, it's too much caffeine! I can't keep up with him!"

_So he still has his caffeine addiction._

"Then stop going to get coffee with him," Iwaizumi snapped tiredly. He started reaching a hand up to his face and stopped only when Hinata piped that he may not want to do that. He sighed and just that was enough to cause a slight ripple of pain; Iwaizumi winced and swore. Feeling Hinata's piercing gaze on him didn't help, and he shot him a glare. "Christ—fine, Hinata. One question. I know you're all in on this, so you guys get one question."

Hinata perked up. "Thank you, Iwaizumi-san! In that case… whose fault was the break-up?"

"…You had that ready awfully quickly."

Hinata smiled.

Iwaizumi sighed and watched the practice match for a few moments; soon, he lost himself in the sound of the coach's whistle and of shoes squeaking against the gym floor, followed by shouts and solid receives and spikes. Despite his best efforts, he'd always end up thinking about how he used to hit Oikawa's tosses. There were times where he'd play around with the national team when they were tossing a ball around for fun ("fun" was used loosely); it was fun and brought back memories, but it just didn't feel right to play without Oikawa there.

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and swallowed thickly.

"I used to think it was entirely his, because he had way too high expectations. But…" Iwaizumi's voice trailed off for a moment and he shook his head. "…It was both of us. I still think his expectations were off, but… I could've tried harder."

"Really?" Hinata blurted out. "I can't imagine you ever not going all out for Oikawa-san."

"…Yeah," he mumbled. "I took him for granted. So maybe he was right to have those expectations after all, and I just fucked it all up."

"Yo, Iwaizumi."

A new voice caught his attention and just as Iwaizumi slanted his gaze towards the source, he was met with a phone right in his face. The click of the camera had him jolting and Iwaizumi frowned to see Hanamaki give a smirk and nod. "Cool. Thanks."

He turned and started walking away. "Bye."

"Wait—what the fuck, Hanamaki?!" he snapped and Hanamaki paused to throw a grin over his shoulder.

"I'm on my way to Oikawa's, so can't stop—don't worry, that picture isn't to show him. It's for my own records. To commemorate when you two got into a fist fight and got me banned from my favorite ramen place."

"You've never even been there before!"

"Well, it could've been my new favorite, and now I'll never know. See you later, Iwaizumi. Let's hang out later this week."

Iwaizumi could practically hear Hinata compiling a bunch of new questions and figuring out how to ask. Putting off that concern, he called Hanamaki's name again and hesitated, licking his lips and unable to ask his question.

Hanamaki stared at him for a moment and gave a lazy smirk.

"He's gonna be fine. He's in worse shape than you, but nothing permanent."

Iwaizumi nodded stiffly and sank back down onto the bench, his next exhale carrying anxiety he hadn't realized had been building up until Hanamaki appeared. If it wasn't for Hinata silently growing giddy next to him, he would have wondered if that just happened; Hanamaki didn't show up very often, and certainly didn't just wander in, snap a picture, and leave again. It had been so strange that had Iwaizumi not been so shaken up, he would've chased him down to demand a proper explanation.

" _Stop it_. All we did was get in a fight—"

"Iwaizumi-san, you care so much about Oikawa-san you got into a fight with him?"

"…I don't get why you sound so excited, this isn't a _good_ thing, you know—"

"I know, I know," Hinata shook his head. He sat forward, having previously been leaning back on his hands, and smiled widely. "I'm just saying that you really care for him. And I know Oikawa-san, he really cares for you too."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "Yeah," he said sarcastically, bringing a hand up to gesture to his black eye. "Cares a lot."

"Well, when Oikawa-san doesn't care about something, he totally ignores its existence, doesn't he?"

Iwaizumi was silent and Hinata's smile widened.

"So… yeah. I think he cares."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally pulled up comments on last chapter and read them concurrently as i went through this chapter to make sure i was addressing the very valid concerns that were brought up, so thank you!!
> 
> thank you for reading, kudos/comments greatly appreciated ♡


	9. sink beneath the waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he kept telling himself that it was okay until he wasn’t okay.

"This might be the most boring hangout I've ever been on," Hanamaki announced and Oikawa chuckled.

"Will it get you to leave?"

Hanamaki leaned over to grab another beer, leaving three on the table. "Not a chance."

Huffing but not surprised, Oikawa readjusted his position. With an elbow on the armrest, Oikawa had the heel of his palm pressed to just behind the curve of his ear, fingers carded through his hair. His other hand balanced the beer on his knee and he focused his gaze on the airing drama. Once he was home, he had taken off his glasses and after feeling the strain on his eye from watching television for a bit, was contemplating making a makeshift eyepatch out of gauze when Hanamaki had arrived. Unfortunately for Oikawa, he didn't trust Hanamaki to not take pictures of him and was now left to wear his glasses again and just try his best to not disturb his nose more than necessary.

After Atsumu's session, Oikawa had killed some time at the hospital before his supervisor gently forced him to go home. _"It's not that we don't want you here, but… Oikawa-san, it's not the greatest of looks when one of our staff looks… well, as you do. Please rest at home."_

Oikawa understood, he really did, but he was still a bit peeved about it, even if he could tell they were more concerned about him than anything else.

A painkiller and nap later, Oikawa was up and about, pain significantly reduced by the time Hanamaki arrived. He'd opened his door to the back of a cellphone in his face, brain registering the _click_ just a second too late. _"Don't worry,"_ Hanamaki had drawled when Oikawa's eves narrowed, _"it's just for my own memories, not blackmail. I'll show you what Iwaizumi looks like if you let me show him what you look like."_

_Oikawa paused to contemplate the offer. "…Will it make me happy?"_

_"Well, if I'm gonna be honest…" Hanamaki paused dramatically. "You look worse than he does."_

_Oikawa wrinkled his nose indignantly. "Well. Then, no."_

Oikawa would admit that it was nice to be hanging out with Hanamaki again. Their dynamic had always been different than Oikawa's with Iwaizumi, but even after not speaking to him for so many years, they fell into a comfortable rhythm quickly. Oikawa enjoyed Kuroo and Kenma—as much as one could enjoy Kuroo's company, anyway—but there was a familiarity of an old friend that just couldn't be replicated. Even if there was a third of each other's lives that was now unknown, what they knew from the remaining two thirds was more than enough.

"Ah… well, that's just stupid."

"Isn't it? All they have to do is talk to each other."

"Yeah, but the writers need their plots to last for more than five minutes," Hanamaki grumbled and Oikawa smiled into his beer. Iwaizumi had never been one for dramas and Matsukawa would tolerate them, but Hanamaki was the only other one who actively enjoyed them; the two had spent countless hours watching and discussing together, while Iwaizumi and Matsukawa were off doing whatever they were doing.

(Probably talking about Oikawa and Hanamaki.)

The episode ended with a cliffhanger that Oikawa could logically figure out the resolution for and he reached for the remote to switch to another drama when Hanamaki interrupted him. "Hey."

Oikawa commended Hanamaki on sitting through an hour before broaching the subject, but that didn't mean he'd changed his stance on being willing to talk. He sighed; he liked Hanamaki, he really did, but he was not above throwing him out. He may not be able to win in a physical fight against Iwaizumi, but he could definitely take Hanamaki on.

Leaning back in the chair, Oikawa didn't look at him or provide an answer, just silently changed the channel. Hanamaki didn't seem perturbed; he was one of three people who knew what Oikawa's various silences meant, including accurately interpreting one but speaking anyway.

"Can you just talk to me? Just one honest conversation, and then I promise I'll drop it and just watch dramas with you."

"Have you always been this nosy, Makki?" he asked delicately, tone a bit sharper than he'd meant it to be.

"Oikawa," Hanamaki said and Oikawa felt guilty for his response even before his response. He exhaled through his nose and casted his gaze over to see Hanamaki looking back tiredly. Oikawa's lips pursed into a frown as he returned his eyes to the television. "I'm not trying to be nosy, and I'm not here on behalf of Iwaizumi. I'm here because we used to be friends and you just one day stopped talking to me and disappeared. I still don't know what happened, and, I'm gonna be honest, Matsukawa and I have been _really_ patient with you, but if you want to be friends again, we deserve at least an explanation."

Oikawa took a breath to snap back, but he managed to catch himself in time. He reflexively bit down on a tender spot of his lip, jerking immediately. Bringing a hand up to his mouth, touching along the spot gingerly to make sure it hadn't started bleeding again, Oikawa narrowed his eyes and dropped them to his floor. Hanamaki was right; more than that, he was so glaringly, _obviously_ right that Oikawa wouldn't even try to argue it. His friends most likely knew why he had suddenly cut them off, and that was why they hadn't tried to force their way back into his life, giving him the space that he had silently asked for.

And now, when they'd bumped into each other by chance again, they hadn't submerged Oikawa with an inundation of questions that had built up. They had allowed their once easy and carefree friendship to be as easy and as carefree as it had ever been; Oikawa hadn't quite realized how isolated he was until he was talking to them again. His emotional turmoil had made it easier to forget his innate loneliness, but once he'd figured out how to settle his feelings (read: concentrate them all into anger), he'd been forced to realize that he missed his friends.

Oikawa had more pride at twenty-seven than most half-century long rivalries, but even he could set a part of it aside for friends as good as Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

Chewing briefly on the mostly uninjured side of his mouth, Oikawa eventually heaved a sigh and nodded, felt the pent up annoyance slowly dissipate in his chest. "…Yeah, you're right, Makki," he said in a quiet voice. He looked up and offered a genuinely apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Where do you want me to start?"

Hanamaki nodded and Oikawa took a sip of his beer.

"When you and Iwaizumi broke up."

Oikawa didn't bat an eye as he swallowed and answered calmly.

"No."

"Fine," Hanamaki scowled. "After you ghosted me and Matsukawa."

Oikawa nodded faintly, mumbling, "Okay." Dropping his gaze to the beer his fingers held loosely, Oikawa scraped his thumb along the ridge and licked his lips. "…I'm sorry for just abruptly ending our friendship," he started in a quiet voice and his brow knit. "It's just…"

"Seeing us reminded you too much of Iwaizumi, right?"

"Yeah," Oikawa mumbled, grateful to not have to say it. His can now had a dent in it from when he'd pressed down too hard at the thought of Iwaizumi and he pressed around it until it popped back in place, outline still vaguely visible. "After that, I just threw myself into volleyball. It was all I really had left without you two…" he shrugged and tilted his head, kept his eyes focused on his can, "I didn't bother to make many friends, my entire social circle was just the volleyball team. But then I pushed myself too hard and tore my ACL…"

He fell silent and felt his gut twisting, a burning sensation crawling up his chest right behind his sternum. He'd remember the moment like it had just happened for the rest of his life; Oikawa had landed horribly wrong and as soon as he heard the pop, his heart dropped even before searing pain shot up his leg and he fell to the ground, crying out in pain. It had been a white-hot, blinding sort of pain that rendered him unable to breathe. He was clutching his knee and couldn't hear anything besides the blood pounding in his ears, only knowing people were around him because he vaguely felt their hands on his shoulder and bodies blocking the lights as they hurried around him.

_It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's gonna be okay, it hurts like shit, but it'll be okay—_

He kept telling himself that it was okay until he wasn't okay. As soon as he woke up from surgery, Oikawa was pestering nurses for his doctor so that he could then pester the doctor. He'd been impatient; he followed the post-surgery instructions meticulously because the only thing that could override his impatience was knowing that if he rushed it, he would make it worse and waste even more time.

At the time, Oikawa had been frustrated with the doctor's vague maybes, and wasn't sure why he was being so conservative and so hesitant. But now that he looked back on it, he understood; he didn't want to give Oikawa false hope, but also wanted desperately to have some good news for him.

But the thing was, Oikawa didn't understand that until years later, after he'd started studying to be a physiotherapist himself. His doctor had told him that it would be unlikely he'd ever play at the level he was, and all Oikawa focused on was _unlikely_ , clinging onto that word because _unlikely_ meant _maybe_ and if there was a _maybe_ , Oikawa would do absolutely anything for it to become a _definitely._

Maybe that was the problem; because he focused on that single glimmer of hope that he poured his entire existence into, he'd pushed himself too much, despite knowing what would happen. His prospect hadn't been promising to start with, but with how hard he pushed himself—the _exact_ mentality that earned him this injury in the first place—he most likely didn't help matters. When his physiotherapist stopped him, he'd then keep doing the rehabilitation exercises himself.

Oikawa had always taken pain as a sign of being alive and making progress; he'd never seen pain as a limitation or a border, and that was exactly the problem.

By the time eight months passed, Oikawa had been growing increasingly frustrated that he still wasn't nearly ready to go back to playing. Looking back now, he had to give his doctor kudos for being patient for so long. He had never given Oikawa false hope; Oikawa had fabricated it himself. Whenever Oikawa talked about how things were improving, that he was seeing definite progress, his doctor would tell him that was great, _but_ say that it was still unlikely he could play again. Oikawa had gotten so used to it, was so comfortable in the self-created grand delusion fit for a king, until one day his doctor said:

_"Oikawa-san, I'm not sure you've properly understood me. It's not that it was a matter of how hard you worked at rehabilitation. Your tear was too extreme; if you're able to walk without pain, that's already surpassing expectations, but you won't be able to play competitively. Your career is over."_

That was the day Oikawa dropped out and disappeared.

It was inevitable that people would find out, and by the time people— _Iwaizumi_ —did, Oikawa didn't want to be in Tokyo. He couldn't even handle the idea of bumping into one of his now ex-teammates on campus and having to make it through idle small talk, pretend he didn't notice the pitying glances, aversion to talking about volleyball, and glances to his knee. The idea of people whispering behind his back and looking when they thought he wasn't paying attention had him snapping pencils without meaning to; Oikawa didn't even have to think about it, all he had to do was get out of Tokyo as soon as he could.

It was humiliating. His team and coach had been visiting him and Oikawa felt sick, remembering how each time they visited, he had reassured them that he would be back as soon as possible. They had to have known and nobody wanted to be the one to tell him that, actually, no he wouldn't. He suddenly remembered seeing the coach and his doctor talking in low voices, abruptly changing the subject if he approached.

He didn't know how long everyone had known, and it was embarrassing to think that he, of all people, had been the very last. He had been so naïve and foolish that he wasted so much time chasing after something no longer attainable, ending up a laughingstock to the people whose respect he had wanted most.

When he thought about Iwaizumi knowing, it felt like proof that there was no limit to how bad a person could feel. He absolutely could not stand the idea of Iwaizumi knowing before he had come to terms with it; even though he knew Iwaizumi never had intentions to play professionally, they were still rivals in his mind. Iwaizumi's height was a disadvantage, but that was something he could overcome; Oikawa had ruined his knee, and _that_ was something he couldn't push past. 

As soon as he dropped out, Oikawa had gone home to start packing up what he needed. He sold most of what he didn't need and threw out or donated the rest. He went home just as a courtesy to his family; his mother had tried to get him to stay, begged him for just a few days, but he refused.

_"Let me call Hajime—"_

_"No," he snapped, whirling around and she immediately froze, finger hovering over her phone. "Don't tell him. Don't tell anybody, but especially not him."_

_"Tooru, he's your best friend," she tried gently, eyes brimming. "He was the one who was there for you when this first happened—"_

_"And now he's not in my life," Oikawa answered plainly, turning away. "It's his fault, anyway."_

He had to blame Iwaizumi because everything could be traced back to him, the way Oikawa hurt himself because he'd needed volleyball so desperately to feel like he could breathe from the suffocating anger of losing their friendship over what Iwaizumi had never taken seriously and always considered a _fling_.

If Iwaizumi had never kissed him, they'd still be friends. If they were still friends, he wouldn't have pushed himself so hard. If he didn't push himself so hard, he'd still have a career, he'd still have his friends, he'd still have his best friend.

Iwaizumi ruined everything.

"…I dropped out," Oikawa continued, clearing his throat and averting his gaze, hoping Hanamaki wouldn't press for more details. "I took a year off. I dropped out at the end of my first year, so I had a full year of credits, and in that year, I just traveled around mainly. Took some time off, helped coach some kids. I came back, re-enrolled in another university, worked hard to make up as much as I could, and managed to get my life back on track. Met Tetsu-chan, bumped into Makki, and now here I am."

He raised his beer and smiled. "Drinking beers with Makki."

Hanamaki snorted and shook his head as he took a sip from his own can. "You should get some kind of award, yeah? Only you could summarize nine years like that."

"You wanted to know what I've been doing, right? There it is. Surely Makki doesn't want to be bored by details, like what I ate on a daily basis?"

"No, but you did skirt over the good stuff," Hanamaki drawled, waving a hand. "C'mon, you know what I wanna know, Oikawa."

Oikawa blinked and feigned ignorance. "My grocery staples?"

"Iwaizumi," Hanamaki said and Oikawa's lips pursed. "You can't tell me about the last nine years that we didn't talk for without bringing up the reason we didn't talk. Didn't he try and reach out to you when we started college?"

"I didn't want to speak to him," Oikawa answered. "We said all we needed to at the end of high school."

"Which was?"

"None of your business."

Hanamaki scoffed, but he held up his hands in defeat. "Fine, fine. But, what, you two broke up, you decided to hurt Iwaizumi once and keep doing so?"

"I haven't even tried to contact him, so if he's hurt—"

"Yeah, but that is hurting him," Hanamaki interrupted and Oikawa opted for another sip of his beer, finishing the can and crushing it. "You know him, Oikawa. He's rough on the outside, but—"

"Didn't he get engaged?" Oikawa asked sharply, looking over and smiled in a practiced way after a moment. "You're right, Makki, I do know him. And I know that he always knows to reach out, but this time he didn't. And then he started dating someone else, so seriously that he was going to marry her. I don't think he was very hurt for too long—"

"Seriously? That's what you think? I'm not Iwaizumi," Hanamaki shook his head, "so I can't tell as easily when you're lying or bullshitting, but you've got to know that Iwaizumi was hurt for such a long time. You have to be too, but you're just being annoying and not admitting it."

Oikawa licked his lips, found himself tonguing the sore spot just for something to keep him grounded. He focused on a small dent on the floor from when he'd dropped a bowl while unpacking, instantly thought of when he and Iwaizumi spilled a pizza (toppings side down) on a brand-new couch and panicked about how to clean it up and how much trouble they'd get in.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm not taking responsibility for the consequences of his own actions," Oikawa answered in a slightly strained voice. "He broke up with me. He stopped reaching out."

"Yeah, but you cut him off. You can't expect Iwaizumi to always try and repair the bridge you burned," Hanamaki shrugged. "Iwaizumi's fucked up too, of course. But that's the thing, you both have, and I don't think either of you fully see it. I think Iwaizumi might be closer, but you're so blinded-"

"It's his fault-"

"Entirely?" Hanamaki shot back and Oikawa flinched. "I know you're hurt, Oikawa, but you've gotta see that it's not _totally_ his fault. You're both being petty as fuck and, _and_ -" Hanamaki repeated with more emphasis when Oikawa opened his mouth, "you both have to take ownership of what happened. I'll tell off Iwaizumi some more, but it's not like you're a shining beacon of maturity while he isn't or vice versa. The first thing you've gotta do is recognize that."

Oikawa's heart was rattling uncomfortably in his ribcage, like it was trying to rip out of his chest and leave his body for dead. He frowned; Hanamaki's words echoed in his head, and yet it felt like they refused to fully digest. They logically made sense, but Oikawa's armor of anger was so impenetrable; it was one thing to hear how he was wrong, but it was another entirely to truly understand and accept his part in it and for that to guide any reconciliations.

As long as Iwaizumi acted like _that_ , Oikawa couldn't see them getting along.

"...Yeah, well, he moved on from me. And then they broke up. It's unfortunate that he was dumped by his fiancée just as we saw each other again, but I have nothing to do with that."

Hanamaki hummed and the fact that he didn't say anything irked Oikawa. He wanted to repeat that he had nothing to do with that, just to make it clear, but had a feeling that would make Hanamaki seem even more smug.

Oikawa's hands were twitching for a second beer, but he kept himself from taking another. As much as he told himself he didn't care about Iwaizumi's engagement, obviously he did. Their relationship hadn't even lasted a year, and suddenly Iwaizumi was about to get married in his second one? That was such a huge leap that Oikawa couldn't help but wonder what had changed; he wondered what about this second relationship had Iwaizumi ready to be so serious, and what about him hadn't warranted that same attitude.

He was flattening the can in his hands and realized only when he had folded it in on itself so many times that it was barely recognizable as a can anymore. Oikawa stared at it and tossed it onto the table; when he looked up, he could see Hanamaki staring at it silently, then making eye contact with him.

"…The way you felt about Iwaizumi," Hanamaki said quietly and Oikawa immediately looked away, "that was love, right? Like, the real thing, not just high school puppy love."

Oikawa licked his lips.

"…If you're asking that, you don't need me to answer," he said quietly and Hanamaki nodded.

"It's all gone? You don't feel even a little of that anymore?"

"Is it so hard to believe?" Oikawa mumbled, growing impatient.

"Well… yeah," Hanamaki said. "Because… you were crazy for him, Oikawa. Like movie-level love, head-over-heels, soulmate type of love. The kind that doesn't seem real and why you don't seem real sometimes. It's just hard to believe that you hate him now."

_"I have never seen you this happy before."_

_Oikawa and Iwaizumi had gotten together about a week ago, but it felt like he hadn't stopped beaming since. Even now, Oikawa was carrying both of their backpacks, one in front and one in back, as well as carrying two plastic bags full of drinks and snacks that he'd paid for, all because of a bet he'd lost with Hanamaki._

_(He'd also lost the bet because he was busy staring at Iwaizumi.)_

_"Man, you should've just gotten together with him the first time he kissed you," Hanamaki laughed, walking languidly with his hands folded behind his head, watching him. "I bet you two are gonna be one of those super gross PDA couples. I mean, Iwaizumi's not the type, but I bet you'd make him."_

_"It's a scary thing to go from friends to dating, Makki! You wouldn't know, you've been married to Mattsun since you two were kids!"_

_"Are you kidding? Look in the mirror, Oikawa, literally everyone was shocked that you two weren't dating until recently!"_

_Oikawa puffed his cheeks out, but the pink tinge was still prominent, highlighted further by the setting sun. Hanamaki teased, but he was glad to see Oikawa so happy; it felt everyone—literally, everyone—knew about Oikawa's feelings for Iwaizumi, and he was relieved that Iwaizumi seemed to finally figure it out as well. He could tell Iwaizumi liked him back; whether or not he liked him back the same way Oikawa was crazy for him, Hanamaki wasn't sure about, but this was Oikawa and Iwaizumi. They'd work out._

_They both had difficult personalities, but they were fated for each other._

_"…I just didn't think he'd ever feel the same way," Oikawa said quietly. He looked down with a small smile. "Or even similarly. Iwa-chan's a little emotionally constipated, so I don't know if what he feels is what I feel, but if he was willing to risk our friendship, he's got to feel at least a little the way I do, right?"_

_Hanamaki laughed. "You're really crazy about him, aren't you?"_

_Oikawa looked over his shoulder at him and beamed._

_"He's the love of my life. I know it."_

"Things change," Oikawa answered smoothly. "People change. People realize things. Hindsight's twenty-twenty and all that."

"Right,"' Hanamaki said dubiously and Oikawa heard him crush his empty can as well. "I mean, yeah, I guess. I just don't think you two changed in the way you think. And you say you don't love him, fine, but you definitely don't not care about him. I mean, you got in a fist fight with him, for fuck's sake. You care. Maybe not in a good way, but you care. But," Hanamaki shook his head and shrugged, "you kept up your end, so I'll stop asking you about this."

"Thank you," Oikawa sang. He reached for the remote to turn the volume back up when he watched Hanamaki stand up and pull on his coat, blinking in surprise as he pocketed his phone after glancing at it briefly. "Ah? What about our drama?"

"We're going out," Hanamaki answered.

"What? Where?"

"A bar. To, you know, drink. Matsukawa's gonna be there too. Just confirmed with him."

"But—"

"Think of this," Hanamaki interrupted and gestured with his arm. "We go out, have a few drinks, then come back and watch the drama… _drunk_."

"…Is that supposed to make me want to go more?"

Hanamaki scoffed. "Just get up, Oikawa. You're hurt, I could easily take you out right now."

* * *

"I swear to you, Oikawa, I _did not_ know he would be here."

Had it not been for Hanamaki's hand on his wrist so quickly and harshly that Oikawa swore his bones were bruising, he would've turned around and left immediately.

As soon as they'd walked into the bar, Oikawa's eyes had gone to the back of Iwaizumi's head, despite Matsukawa being the one facing them. His eyes had widened; Matsukawa darted a look at Iwaizumi, who, Oikawa could tell by the sudden slight straightening of his shoulders, realized what was happening.

Oikawa didn't know how to feel about Iwaizumi's Oikawa-specific sixth-sense still working.

"I'm leaving—"

"Oikawa, come on—"

"I'm not really in the mood to look like a panda, and that brute over there—"

"It's been a few days-"

"It's _only_ been a few days and he punched me-"

"Okay, but that was literally your goal-"

"Let go-"

" _Oikawa_ ," Hanamaki pressed and Oikawa wondered when he'd gotten so strong, unable to help from wincing at Hanamaki's grip. He relented slightly at that, but the grip was still too firm to pull away from. "Okay, okay, I know, it's hard. But you two can't just spend forever hating each other; don't you work together? Look, I'll sit next to him, so you sit diagonal. You'll be as far as possible."

Oikawa wasn't convinced and Hanamaki sighed, free hand rubbing his hair. "Okay, fine, think of it this way. I know, you wanna win, don't you? Just be the bigger person. Make him feel like shit for being petty."

Hanamaki's words still didn't convince him, but his nails digging into his skin did; Oikawa regretted not taking another painkiller before leaving. He'd decided to be responsible and not mix alcohol and medication, but if he'd known Iwaizumi was here, he would have risked it.

"Fine, just let go of my arm, for fuck's sake, when did you get so strong?" Oikawa mumbled, massaging his arm as soon as Hanamaki finally released it.

Hanamaki smirked, surely picking up on his swear. "Cool. Now, try to be nice, okay? You don't have to try for long, alcohol will help a lot. Think of it as doing a favor for me and Matsukawa."

From where they were standing, the table was twenty steps at most; Oikawa had started out relatively close behind Hanamaki, but his steps had slowed and he ended up arriving several paces behind. He watched Hanamaki greet Matsukawa first, forcing Iwaizumi to move in so he could take the empty seat. Matsukawa moved in on the other side of the booth and Oikawa managed a ghost of a smile as he gingerly took the empty space, keeping his eyes averted from Iwaizumi's general direction.

"Sorry for being late," Hanamaki said and glared at Matsukawa. "Thanks for telling me you weren't alone; I wouldn't have rushed here."

 _I would've left Oikawa so we could have a nice night_ was the actual message.

"We bumped into each other on the way home," Matsukawa said slowly, clearing his throat. "Iwaizumi was helping Hinata-san home."

"Hinata Shoyo?" Hanamaki turned to Iwaizumi and in his peripheral vision, Oikawa could see that Iwaizumi had his chin rested on the flesh of his palm, looking out the window with seemingly endless determination. "What's wrong with him?"

"Dumbass just twisted his ankle," Iwaizumi grumbled. "Some people have absolutely no brain cells when it comes to self-preservation and just expect people around them to fix everything."

"I think it's better to give it everything you have, rather than give up without even trying," Oikawa answered without missing a beat and could tell Hanamaki and Matsukawa were exchanging concerned looks, "but I guess some people are cowards."

Anger would blur Oikawa's vision, but it never faltered his wit, and so Oikawa knew exactly what he was doing. He'd expected Iwaizumi to lunge across the table at him, based on his reaction last time, and he wasn't alone; Hanamaki had leaned forward with his elbows on the table to try and form a physical barrier while Matsukawa was reaching out his hand to rest further up on the table, ready to stop Iwaizumi.

Oikawa could feel his heart start to pound faster, just the adrenaline of anticipation already flowing through his veins, but nothing happened. From the lack of a reaction, Oikawa realized that maybe Iwaizumi hadn't actually been being passive aggressive towards him. The only change Oikawa noted was Iwaizumi's expression relaxing; when he moved, it was just to sit back and pull his gaze back from out the window, though not looking at Oikawa. He brought his hands off the table to rest in his pockets. "Yeah," he said quietly, "guess you're right. So who's getting the first round?"

The table was quiet for a moment; Oikawa was staring at Iwaizumi before he could stop himself, a usually relaxed brow slightly furrowed as he tried to discern the whirlwind of emotion brewing in his chest. Something was off; Iwaizumi wasn't looking at him, but he didn't seem upset and, Oikawa was not amused to note, he _did_ look to be in better shape than Oikawa. While Iwaizumi just had a black eye that wasn't nearly as bad as his and a slight cut on his lip, Oikawa was feeling echoes of pain from his nose, eye, _and_ mouth, and that, in itself, made Oikawa want to hit him again.

His fist clenched and when Matsukawa bumped his shoulder most likely on purpose, and Oikawa couldn't stop himself from throwing him a glare. Matsukawa just gave him a look in return and he scoffed under his breath, forcing himself to relax. _Fine. I can be relaxed too. I can. I'll be even more relaxed than him._

"First round's on me," Hanamaki said and grinned as he stood. "I think we all just need to get sloshed, yeah? Yeah. All right, try not to kill each other before I'm back. Good luck, Matsukawa."

One round turned into three, which was when Iwaizumi started joining in on the conversation, and then to five, at which point Iwaizumi and Oikawa would actually respond to what the other was saying in the conversation because as it turned out, nostalgia, alcohol, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa was a hell of a combination. By this point, Oikawa couldn't feel his face anymore; he still felt in control of himself and seemed to have achieved the precarious balance between being tipsy and drunk. Everything was hilarious and nothing was irritating; if only he could live his life exactly with this feeling of numbness, Oikawa thought, things would be easier.

There were already blanks in his mind, but their conversations ranged from high school memories to college stories; Oikawa was finding himself filled in on Matsukawa and Hanamaki's college adventures, Iwaizumi's name mentioned if their stories included him, but no actual stories about his life. Oikawa didn't mind all too much; what he did want to know about Iwaizumi wasn't something he'd talk about unless he was black out drunk and as long as Iwaizumi volunteered no personal information, then Oikawa wouldn't be expected to either.

_"You stole a motorcycle, Mattsun?"_

_"And he would've gotten away with it, but he returned it the next morning! The guy wasn't mad though, he'd gotten it washed and filled up the tank."_

When it was Oikawa's turn to get the next round, he remembered that when he stood, he'd accidentally made eye contact with Iwaizumi and swore, he _swore_ , that Iwaizumi gave the ghost of a smile before breaking eye contact first to call Matsukawa out on missing more lectures than attending for one particular class because of hangovers.

And Oikawa could tell he was starting to cross the boundary to being drunk because he wasn't mad about it.

"Four more."

"The same?"

"Yeah. Just put it on my tab."

Waiting for their drinks, Oikawa shifted his weight from one leg to the other, making sure to not accidentally favor his right knee. His skin still felt like it was buzzing, just like when he and Iwaizumi were little and would put their faces right up to the television. They'd lick the screen until one time their parents caught them and scolded them, so the next time, they'd done it again. Oikawa would never forget how big Iwaizumi's eyes had gotten; he'd been more interested in that than the weird taste and sensation. When Iwaizumi decided he'd had enough, they'd go get popsicles and Oikawa would still find himself watching Iwaizumi's expression instead of focusing on his favorite flavor.

"You want any help?"

They were just four shots. Oikawa could carry four shots; he wasn't that drunk and shot glasses were pretty small. All night, each of the four had been able to bring the drinks back to the table with ease, and yet, when Iwaizumi offered, Oikawa nodded, even briefly smiled. "That'd be nice."

Had he been sober, he would've considered dumping Hanamaki's shot on his head at his grin when they came back to the table together.

"All right, I have to call it a night," Matsukawa said after about another hour, smiling and shaking his head when Hanamaki immediately protested. "I have work—"

"The dead are gonna stay dead!"

"Stop saying that every time I have to do something for work!"

"Am I wrong?!"

Oikawa laughed breathily and stood to let Matsukawa out; Hanamaki whined but stood up as well, reaching out and grasping Matsukawa's forearm for support when he offered. "All right… well we currently only have one pair of keys, so I gotta head home with him," Hanamaki said, flashing a grin. "Iwaizumi, you gonna head out too?"

Iwaizumi shook his head. "I'll finish this beer then head out. One of you make a copy of your keys already," he added, glaring at them.

"Well, Matsukawa lost them—"

"What? No, you lost—"

"The point is, they were lost—"

"Yeah, so I'm saying you should make another copy!"

Oikawa was smiling, bringing his glass to his lips. He had about a quarter left; Oikawa had never been quite a stickler for finishing all his food the way Iwaizumi was. It had led to some fights in high school and more often than not, Iwaizumi would finish Oikawa's food for him, lecturing him about wasting both food _and_ money as Oikawa affectionately referred to him as a personal garbage can.

The fact that he'd finished almost three fourths of his beer was already a good sign; Oikawa's usual rule was to at least finish half to justify the money spent.

Hanamaki glared at Matsukawa and faced Oikawa. "Your place is on the way to ours from here, you wanna go together?"

Oikawa hesitated; his eyes fell to his drink, intending to focus on the carbonation but finding himself concentrating on what his peripheral vision was picking up. He cleared his throat and shook his head with a small smile. "No, I'll finish my drink too."

Hanamaki was staring when Oikawa looked back to him eventually; his smile turned into a smirk and he just waved him off, ignoring the glint he saw flicker in his eyes. "Mattsun, make sure to drink enough water, okay? Even dead patients deserve non-hungover service. Makki… I guess it's okay if you're hungover."

"Ass."

Hanamaki glared while Matsukawa nodded, leaving Oikawa with a similar smile. Oikawa lingered for just a moment before he took his time taking a seat again; he wasn't quite sure if he should still sit diagonally from Iwaizumi, thinking that it would look odd. However, he also didn't want to sit directly across from him the way Matsukawa had been; that would be too close. He eventually settled for sitting in the middle of the booth, maybe a little more to the side Iwaizumi was on.

He hadn't looked at him yet and Iwaizumi hadn't said anything, which Oikawa didn't mind. He honestly wouldn't even have minded if they just finished their drinks in peace, the only words to possibly be exchanged a bidding of farewells. For the life of himself, he couldn't explain what compelled him to stay. Maybe it was nostalgia. It had to be nostalgia, he thought; he had spent the entire night feeling like he was back in high school in the best way possible, laughing and talking in a way he thought he'd never feel again.

Oikawa didn't drink often, but alcohol had been his only promise for a tolerable evening and it had turned into more than just tolerable. After all, he'd been best friends with Iwaizumi for a reason. For eighteen years, he'd really, truly cared for him and enjoyed spending time with him and that was exactly what he remembered tonight.

He took another sip of his beer, a tiny one this time, and as he was relaxing into the silence, he heard a voice.

"So… you seem calmer."

It was his own.

When Iwaizumi cast his gaze over to meet Oikawa's, he swore his heart almost exploded out of his chest.

It had to be the alcohol. There was no other reason; it was the alcohol swimming in his veins and the high school memories he'd been reliving earlier that day. When Iwaizumi looked at him, Oikawa forgot how to breathe, just like when they were in high school and Iwaizumi would always stop and look back, no matter how quietly Oikawa whispered _Iwa-chan_.

_"What?"_

_"Just wanted to see if you could hear!"_

_"…?"_

"Yeah. Your face looks like shit."

Oikawa made a face that earned a snicker from Iwaizumi, which made the slight twinge of pain worth it. "That nose strip…" Iwaizumi murmured, tapping his own nose with a finger and smirking, "reminds me of when you took a ball to the face."

"Haa, you're going to bring that up? It was Mattsun's fault!" Oikawa whined, shifting and realizing only after that he was now closer to being directly across from Iwaizumi.

"I mean, when someone spikes a ball at you, you generally try to receive it," Iwaizumi answered with the same smirk. "Still surprised that you didn't. You must've been distracted that day."

He was, Oikawa remembered it distinctly, because it was a day in their second year of high school. They'd been in practice when a cute girl came in and waved Iwaizumi over. Oikawa didn't know her; he knew most girls in the school, but this one was a stranger, and he couldn't help but watch them, trying to figure out what they could possibly be talking about.

_Clubs? Impossible, they were in all the same clubs. Project partner? Possibly, but then why was her hand on Iwaizumi's arm like that—_

_"OIKAWA-!"_

"I was probably making sure that Watachi wasn't doing something weird."

"Should've been making sure nobody was trying to break your face."

Iwaizumi was regarding him with an unreadable expression that left Oikawa's heartstrings thrumming. Iwaizumi leaned back and when he brought his glass up to his lips, Oikawa's eyes fell to watch the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he took a sip; he found himself swallowing as well and tore his gaze away just before Iwaizumi could catch him, taking a sip of his own beer, this time a sizable gulp with a satisfying burn of carbonation.

"It's not broken, is it?"

Iwaizumi didn't have to specify. Oikawa gave a smile that he coupled with a half-lidded gaze, focusing his eyes on a coaster. "No, just a bruise," he answered honestly. "I guess I have to thank you for not breaking my jaw. Guess you don't hate me that much, yeah?"

Iwaizumi didn't react at first, and Oikawa was starting to think that he hadn't heard him or that this joke was a bit too close to home for their precariously pleasant drunken conversation. He took another sip of his beer and licked his lips, when he heard his name in a low voice.

When he looked up, the way Iwaizumi was looking at him made his heart drop; Oikawa couldn't decipher what was brewing behind his eyes, but he knew that it felt as if his chest had opened up as a black hole, stealing away all the oxygen in his lungs. His fingers felt paralyzed for a moment and Oikawa struggled to grip his glass, feeling his heart beating against his ribs.

"I don't hate you," Iwaizumi said, voice quiet but drowning out the entire bar. Iwaizumi smiled in a certain way that had Oikawa feeling the small bit of breath he was able to inhale disappear immediately. His eyes darkened as Oikawa felt his body seem to get lighter. "I know you do, but I don't. I don't think I could ever truly hate you."

Oikawa's hand was shaking against his thigh; after a moment, he dug his nails into the flesh, sensation dulled by the fabric of his pants. He licked his lips and had to tear his gaze away because he'd been friends with Iwaizumi for eighteen years, and very few times did he look at him like that. _I'm going to head home_ , he rehearsed in his head. _I have an early day tomorrow, lots of errands to run, research to do, groceries to buy._ He practiced the words in his head a few more times and looked up, felt his heart seizing to realize Iwaizumi was still watching him. "I—"

His breath hitched and he cleared his throat to try again.

"I… can't remember the last time we kissed."

Iwaizumi's expression remained impassive and Oikawa did everything he could to keep his from changing that much; he felt like he was outside of his own body. His heart leapt to his throat as he tried to figure out how to backtrack and considered whether it was possible that Iwaizumi hadn't heard. He was attempting to figure out where the question had even come from and was searching through his troves of memories, found only that it was a question he'd wondered for so long but still didn't have an answer why his brain chose _now_ to ask it.

Oikawa didn't let himself reminisce very much on their relationship, but there were nights where even he couldn't push his thoughts out of his mind.

"You kissed me," he heard, chin jerking up. Iwaizumi had looked away at last, a distant gaze in his eyes and a lopsided smile dancing his lips. Oikawa reflexively licked his own. "It was… three days before we broke up," Iwaizumi continued quietly. "We were fighting so much by that time, but there'd be these pockets where we'd be able to stand each other. We were at my place together, deciding what to get for dinner. I think you wanted to order karaage, but it was my turn and I wanted katsudon. Honestly, I was going to just give in, but I was having fun watching you get upset…"

He laughed briefly and Oikawa was beyond grateful to already be sitting. Iwaizumi slated his gaze over and Oikawa knew, he _knew_ they were both drunk at this point, because when he was drunk around Iwaizumi, he absolutely couldn't help himself, the way Iwaizumi also couldn't. Iwaizumi grinned at him, a familiar boyish grin that had Oikawa laughing in return, a small chuckle blooming from his chest, carrying with it a lightness he hadn't felt in years. "Sorry."

Oikawa found himself shaking his head, his entire body feeling warm and undoubtedly that showing in his cheeks. "…Don't worry about it. So that's… the last time we kissed?" he asked quietly.

Iwaizumi nodded, dropping his eyes again. "Yeah. We were kind of arguing, and there was one time where you kissed me to win an argument, so you started doing that more and more often to get your way. I knew that, so used it to my advantage."

Oikawa laughed again, leaned forward and steadied himself with his elbows on the table. "So you manipulated me into kissing you?" he teased, swearing that while everything in his vision was swimming, Iwaizumi was the only constant.

"I wanted you to kiss me and you were going to anyway," Iwaizumi answered with a smirk. "I was just setting you up for what you want."

"So then I kissed you."

"Then you kissed me," Iwaizumi said quietly, leaning forward. He folded his arms and rested them on the table, gazing evenly at him. "You were always better at kissing than I was, and I'm pretty sure you knew and used it to your advantage."

Oikawa smirked, tilted his head and felt his chin dig into his palm. "You've gotten better though. You shouldn't discount yourself. Growth is possible."

Iwaizumi regarded him silently for a few moments and Oikawa was afraid he'd said something wrong; he was about to pull back when he saw Iwaizumi's lips move, registering what he was saying only a moment later and forced his eyes away from his lips. "I wish our last kiss wasn't a tactical one, though."

Iwaizumi had asked how Oikawa could say half the things he did, the flowery and flouncy lines that belonged in movie scripts or epic romances, but Oikawa didn't understand how Iwaizumi could say things like _that_ so bluntly and not blink an eye. His breath caught in his throat and Oikawa forgot to inhale for several seconds. When he did, it was shaky and he found himself licking his lips, smiling wistfully.

"…Yeah, I did too. Because that kiss… even if we didn't have that great of a relationship, I wouldn't have wanted to be our last kiss. You meant everything to me," he said before he could stop himself, voice tapering off and unsure if Iwaizumi had heard the last few words.

"…Oikawa."

Between the two of them, Oikawa had always been the one who was much more graceful with words. He'd taken advantage of this often, just because he thought it was hilarious to fluster Iwaizumi. In high school, a lot of the embarrassing things he said had been truly how he felt, and he'd littered more dramatic, ridiculous things in between. As much as Oikawa meant everything he said to Iwaizumi, it had always left him feeling a little too vulnerable and exposed that Iwaizumi never said anything back, or even tried. As a result, he'd say more and more things to embarrass him, thinking that if he made this a habit, he could still be honest and not feel like the only one being completely honest.

But in this moment, Oikawa was the one caught off guard. The table suddenly seemed tiny; it hadn't been very big to begin with, his knees had been bumping Hanamaki's all night, but it suddenly seemed smaller still, and when he realized Iwaizumi was leaning in, he didn't make any effort to move away, even though it would be more than easy to. There was space behind him and also to the left; Oikawa could have even just slipped under the table if he so chose, but he stayed incredibly still.

Iwaizumi's fingers danced along his jaw and Oikawa involuntarily shuddered; the fluttering sensations were soon replaced with his soft, warm palm pressed to Oikawa's sharp jawline, fingers sifting through his hair just behind his ear. Oikawa's last breath was an inhale as he felt Iwaizumi's breath fan over his mouth, and then it was their lips brushing against each other so lightly that Oikawa didn't know if this would count as a kiss. It felt as though every nerve in his body was concentrated in his lips at that exact moment, but if he so much as shifted and the fabric of his clothes brushed lightly over his skin, that area of his body would also lit up.

The palpitations in his heart had turned into percussive beats and his own hand had come up, just barely grazing Iwaizumi's. He skimmed his touch lightly over the side of Iwaizumi's hand, switching from pads of his fingers to light scratches with his nails. This kiss was so fleeting and light it reminded him of their first kiss, which had been so innocent and absolutely stolen Oikawa's breath away beneath the stars he'd spent a childhood mesmerized by. When Iwaizumi murmured his name, Oikawa felt his lips brush against his with the syllables and shivered again; he could tell that Iwaizumi was going to kiss him again, this time angling his head deeper.

Oikawa sighed into the second kiss, this time leaning in to meet him halfway; this one was less fleeting, the pressing of their lips together more assured. He moved his mouth slowly against Iwaizumi's and felt his fingers tickling his cheek. Iwaizumi's tongue tasted of tequila and beer, two tastes that Oikawa had never enjoyed on his own but were addictive when coming from Iwaizumi. He leaned forward to deepen the kiss and tightened his grip on Iwaizumi's hand, the way he kissed him growing bolder but still slow and sweet.

Oikawa shifted his body and felt his knees brush against Iwaizumi's under the table. He brought his free hand up, slowly and hesitantly touching it along Iwaizumi's neck, eventually resting his palm against his collarbone, able to feel Iwaizumi's heart beating beneath the tips of his fingers. Everything felt blurred and everything felt safe in this moment as he kissed the person he had been so sure was the love of his life; Oikawa hated that he felt a need for air, and tried to bay the need as long as he could. His movements felt sluggish and he'd felt warmer than he had all night, and yet goosebumps were lighting his skin and he was hyperaware of every nerve in his body.

Iwaizumi's movements were slow; when he bumped their noses, it was slight, but that jolt pain from his bruised nose jerked Oikawa out of his trance.

The hand that had been on Iwaizumi's chest moved to grab his shirt and shove him back roughly; Iwaizumi's eyes fluttered open and they stared at each other with equal surprise for a few moments. Sensation flooded back to every part of Oikawa as he realized what was happening. His hand was trembling against Iwaizumi's chest and he shook his head sharply and stood. "Fuck you," he breathed, voice wavering, "you can't—you can't keep not taking me seriously and treating me like—just—fuck you, Iwaizumi."

Oikawa broke off and slid out of the booth, planting his right foot down a bit too firmly on the ground. He'd come to regret that tomorrow morning, he already knew, but for now, his main concern was to get out of the bar as quickly as he could, knowing even before he was outside that Iwaizumi was following him.

Despite being shorter, Iwaizumi had always been the one to handle alcohol just a bit better, so when he caught up easily to Oikawa, he wasn't surprised. He felt his hand, so warm and strong, grasp his wrist and Oikawa's breath hiccuped. "Let go," he mumbled, "let go of me, Iwaizumi—"

"Oikawa," he heard in a pained voice and hated that it felt like there was a gaping wound in his chest. "I'm sorr—"

"Let _go_ of me—"

"Just listen—"

"Iwaizumi—"

"Don't leave—"

Iwaizumi had grabbed his left hand, and maybe that was the mistake, because it allowed Oikawa's right hand free to hit him for the third time in a week. Pain exploded this time in his fist; Oikawa yelped louder than Iwaizumi did and he couldn't help but immediately bring his left hand to his fist as soon as Iwaizumi let go, stumbling back from impact. He bit back a swear and shook his hand, looking over with a glare; he could see a few drops of blood escaping the corner of Iwaizumi's mouth.

"Iwaizumi," he said in a low voice, "everything that's gone wrong in my life can directly be traced back to you and if I had a choice between playing volleyball again and forgetting you, it would be the latter."

Words were flying out of his mouth before he could rethink them and Oikawa's fists were clenched so tightly, he didn't know if that was causing his shaking or if it was his anger. "So _fuck_ you and stay the _fuck_ away from me," he snarled. "I don't ever want to see you ever again."

Everything after that was a blur of hurried steps that ended with a limp, shaking hands and dropped keys, adrenaline coursing through his veins showing no signs of stopping until he was safely enveloped in the darkness of his own apartment.

Oikawa would wake up the next morning with a wicked hangover, an aching hand, and an explosive headache, but the first thing he remembered was the way Iwaizumi had looked at him, and how it had felt like his chest had split wide open.

He closed his eyes and then remembered that just before Iwaizumi had leaned in and kissed him, Oikawa's hand had been resting on his neck, pulling him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm laughing because i personally got whiplash reading the end of this chapter so if you feel that way too... we can both wonder what was happening in my brain when i was plotting this
> 
> again, thank you for reading! kudos/comments appreciated greatly ♡


	10. you’re not my homeland anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t hateful, he wasn’t upset, he was exhausted at carrying the weight of a universe in his heart for someone who certainly stopped feeling that way a long time ago.

Oikawa never thought he could break Iwaizumi's heart, because that would require having it in the first place.

Wincing as he forced himself to sit up, Oikawa took a deep breath. He pressed one hand to the bed to steady himself and the other rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows, but it did little to ease the pounding headache and dryness lining his throat. He tried to swallow and winced; it felt like his throat was splitting open. Taking a deep breath, Oikawa stumbled to his feet; he kept the hand to his face where it was and used the other to guide his way along a wall to make sure he didn't walk into anything.

Successfully making his way into the kitchen, Oikawa rummaged through his drawers for his painkillers, taking one impatiently and fumbling back to his bed, throwing himself onto the rumpled sheets.

As soon as his body hit his duvet and mattress, he instantly had a sense of déjà vu; despite the pain his head was in, his mind still had the audacity to flicker back to last night. Oikawa's memory was spotty; he barely remembered making it home, the journey from the bar to his apartment a whirlwind of panting, tripping over his own feet, and bumping into walls and people. It had taken him far more tries than usual to unlock his door and based on his horrible breath and stench of alcohol on his clothes, Oikawa could only assume he'd used the last of his energy to toss himself onto his bed and promptly pass out.

Then, when he woke up, it was to an emotional chasm that overrode the pain of his hangover, fist, and lingering facial injuries combined. When he brought a hand to his chest, he was surprised there was no physical valley splitting his sternum in half. Remembering the way Iwaizumi had looked at him last night immobilized his lungs, forcing Oikawa to have to choke for his first few conscious breaths of the day.

Hurt wasn't the right word; _hurt_ was when Iwaizumi had seen him with his classmate after that volleyball game. _Hurt_ was something that Oikawa could apologize for. _Hurt_ was something that he could say was truly an accident and he hadn't meant to do that to him.

But last night went beyond hurt and it felt like the type of thing that Oikawa couldn't apologize for. Oikawa had told himself that his goal all this time wasn't to hurt Iwaizumi, even if it was an obvious byproduct; his intention had been to relieve the pressure that had been building behind his ribs for almost a decade. But, Oikawa wondered, did that matter? Was that as big a difference as he'd told himself it was? Was there an actual difference between wanting to hurt Iwaizumi and knowing it would happen as a result but not caring?

He still didn't have an answer to that, but he knew that last night he had purposely and intentionally lashed out to hurt Iwaizumi as much as he could in that moment and it was the kind of thing that he didn't think he could apologize enough for.

Oikawa's heart had been breaking even before they broke up because while he'd been over the moon when they started dating, he started doubting Iwaizumi's intentions with each day that passed where he still felt like they were more friends than boyfriends. He and Iwaizumi had never had deep discussions about relationships and what they meant to the other; they were high school boys, they talked about volleyball and video games. If Iwaizumi asked, Oikawa would answer, but his questions were always along the lines of _do you have a date tomorrow or are you free to hang out?_ never anything about his love language or his expectations; those just weren't the kinds of things that _friends_ talked about and when they dated, it still had never come up. Oikawa assumed that they'd gotten along so well as friends, it didn't even occur to him that it might not translate into a romantic relationship.

He had known that Iwaizumi wasn't a romantic; Oikawa wasn't expecting Iwaizumi to be like him. He wasn't expecting waxing poetry and soulful lamenting, but he _did_ expect more than what Iwaizumi was giving. They went on supposed dates, but they felt like their normal meals out. They cuddled, but they'd always been physically close. They kissed, which always left Oikawa's heart racing, but then he was left wondering if that was the extent of their relationship.

They were risking their friendship for this; Iwaizumi surely couldn't have been naïve enough to think that if they broke up, that it would be nothing, that they could go back to how they were. Oikawa had known he was head over heels for Iwaizumi for so long that he couldn't remember a time where he wasn't in love with him. He'd never acted on it out of fear of losing their friendship, and so when Iwaizumi kissed him first, he had been stunned. For just a brief moment, he had been elated at the idea of Iwaizumi feeling the same way. But that moment passed and he'd pushed him away, decided that it would be for the best if they stayed as friends.

But he couldn't stop thinking about that kiss.

Iwaizumi had kissed him; _Iwaizumi_ had initiated the kiss, which meant that _Iwaizumi_ returned his feelings. It left Oikawa feeling a jittery mess, and it took everything he had to hold himself together around him as he processed this information. They didn't speak of it but it was all he could think about when they were together. Oikawa caught his gaze lingering on Iwaizumi more and more often; he'd always watched him a lot and was usually able to look away before getting caught. But after the kiss, he'd find himself staring at Iwaizumi's lips and imagine kissing him again, almost impulsively doing so a few times. Iwaizumi was as dense as ever, just asked _what's wrong with you?_ when he actually caught Oikawa watching him.

This happened for almost two months (he had no idea how Iwaizumi was _that_ stupid when Oikawa was being _so_ painfully obvious that even people he'd never spoken to started asking when they'd started dating) until Oikawa brought out a pack of beer again and asked for him to kiss him.

 _Iwaizumi_ had kissed him, which validated that it wasn't all in Oikawa's head, that his best friend felt the same way about him. Oikawa trusted him more than anyone in the world, thought that their friendship meant just as much as to him as it did to Oikawa, and that he wouldn't risk it for something trivial, that if he kissed him, Iwaizumi felt as strongly as he did, and thought that their feelings were worth risking their friendship over.

As long as he had Iwaizumi by his side, then Oikawa felt invincible.

Oikawa didn't expect grand gestures. He didn't expect boomboxes under his window, rose petals leading to a rendezvous spot, or horse drawn carriage rides. All he expected was effort beyond how it had always been, but it felt like nothing had changed. That was when Oikawa started thinking that maybe, just maybe, it _had_ been in his head. Iwaizumi kissed him, but it wasn't that serious, and Oikawa had deluded himself into a fantasy he'd spent countless of wishes on to bring to reality.

Maybe Iwaizumi never even treasured their friendship that much, maybe even that was in Oikawa's head.

The thought broke Oikawa's heart more than all his previous break-ups had, and when they finally did end it, there wasn't any more damage that could have shattered him. He'd never thought Iwaizumi would hurt him, at least not intentionally, and now he wasn't sure, and it decimated his heart into an infinite number of pieces that he didn't think he could ever piece back together again. Oikawa had thought that the pain he felt was beyond what one single person should be allowed to feel, and then he saw the way Iwaizumi looked at him last night.

It felt like he'd hurt Iwaizumi worse than Iwaizumi had ever hurt him.

Eyes fluttering open to loud pounding at his door, Oikawa winced but noted that his headache was already feeling better. The person at his door persisted and Oikawa pushed himself up; it was when he stood that he remembered how he'd come down on his knee wrong last night and swore, falling back onto the bed for a moment. He took a deep breath and massaged his knee before willing himself back up, hobbling to the door. He pressed an arm to the wall to steady himself and opened the door. Kuroo had recoiled immediately, which Oikawa thought was a little insulting. "Well, that's not nice."

"You… smell like a tequila factory."

Kuroo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Well, going out to lunch is clearly off the table. Go shower, I'll order something."

Oikawa stared at him and Kuroo glared.

"…You forgot, didn't you."

"…As an apology, I will shower."

Oikawa knew he'd showered slower than usual due to the combination of his hangover, emotional turmoil, and knee, but he was still surprised to see that their lunch had been delivered and Kuroo's portion was half gone. He brought his knee brace and tossed it onto the couch; Oikawa could see Kuroo glance at it and then his knee but ignored it in favor of eating.

"I like tonkatsu for when I'm hungover," Kuroo said and Oikawa smiled briefly.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Tetsu-chan."

Oikawa had taken extra care to make sure that he washed off everything from last night; his skin was still slightly red from the scalding water and extra scrubbing, teeth squeaky clean from being brushed twice. The only area of his body he didn't scrub until it felt like a layer of skin had come off was his lips; Oikawa's fingers had fluttered against them, remembered a kiss that _he_ had initiated-the same kiss that he'd punched Iwaizumi for and dropped his hand, pushed it out of his mind. His right hand was still sore, something Kuroo definitely picked up on, but he refused when he asked if he wanted to be fed. To meet his body halfway, Oikawa opted for a fork instead of chopsticks, glared triumphantly at Kuroo, who rolled his eyes. "So," Kuroo said, "what happened last night?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," Oikawa answered, mouth half full with a bite of food.

"Okay," he said and Oikawa blinked at how easy it was. "Then at least tell me if I should also punch Iwaizumi when I see him again."

Oikawa chuckled and waited until he swallowed. "Should I be concerned at how quick you appear to change loyalties, Tetsu-chan?"

"Hey, I've got my reasons," Kuroo smirked. "I mean, we've had exactly one conversation about it, but I can't help but feel for what you said. Besides, just because I want to punch him doesn't mean I don't want to punch you."

Oikawa made a face.

"…Hm, I don't think that makes me feel better."

"It wasn't supposed to."

Oikawa set his food back on the coffee table and shifted to lean back into the couch. Last night had been one surprise after another; not only did Iwaizumi not snap at him, but he was civil with him. Not only was he civil with him, he was willing to talk to him—and Oikawa was willing to talk with him as well. Not only could they hold a conversation, but Iwaizumi remembered their last kiss when Oikawa couldn't. Not only did Iwaizumi remember, Oikawa admitted to wanting to kiss him one more time.

And not only did Oikawa admit to, Iwaizumi actually _did_.

Oikawa wouldn't deny that he wanted to as well, as if his hand pulling Iwaizumi in wasn't enough evidence; he'd kissed back because that was his basest, most honest reaction to Iwaizumi kissing him that gently. Kissing was mostly a physical exercise that Oikawa was fairly familiar with, but there was a definite distinction between kissing someone just to kiss them and kissing them to pick up where words left off and with Iwaizumi, last night had definitely been the latter.

His stomach turned just remembering it.

Oikawa dug the nail of his left thumb into the pad of his index finger, knitting his brow—it was impossible to not wonder about the reasoning behind Iwaizumi's kiss. He wasn't sure if it was purely because of alcohol because the last time they had been drunk around each other, well, they had gone much further than just kissing.

But last night's kiss was different. The first night had been hard and desperate and Oikawa kissed Iwaizumi with the intention of suffocating him. But last night he kissed him with the intention of filling both of their lungs; every touch was slow and deliberate instead of hurried and rough, every movement was meaningful and calculated instead of clumsy and rushed. Iwaizumi kissed him in a way he seldom had in high school, and when he kissed Oikawa last night, it felt as though finally that more than a fraction of his feelings were being returned.

It had always been so easy for Iwaizumi to make Oikawa forget everything; all he had to do was kiss him and suddenly, Oikawa forgot about everything that had happened to him. His only focus was kissing the person in front of him; he lost all sense of time and feeling in his body until one bump to an injury that same person gave him jerked him out of a dream too good to be true.

Oikawa couldn't stop visualizing Iwaizumi's last expression of the night; it left him feeling so nauseous that he almost gagged and just mumbled 'hangover' when Kuroo questioned it. He swallowed thickly and it didn't help; no matter where he looked, all he heard was the pained way Iwaizumi had said his name, and the way he'd looked at him, eyes so wide and expression so…

_Devastated._

But, Oikawa tried to tell himself, it was Iwaizumi's fault; he couldn't fathom a single reason why Iwaizumi would think it would be a good idea to kiss him.

He swallowed.

Of course he knew why; Iwaizumi had kissed him because Oikawa had wanted him to.

Alcohol lowered his guard when it came to Iwaizumi and even when sober, it took everything for Oikawa to keep every guard he had because he knew that Iwaizumi would be able to see through them all. That was the problem with hating someone who knew him better than he knew himself; it was absolutely exhausting to constantly be on guard.

"Oikawa," he heard and turned to look at Kuroo, saw him tilting his head to be able to look at him. "Can I ask something?"

Oikawa frowned. "I don't think you'd listen if I said no."

Kuroo smirked and nodded, but the expression disappeared after a moment. "…Do you like Iwaizumi? Not even love, but like… at all? Or do you really hate him?"

Oikawa bristled and glared at him accusingly. As he leaned forward, he reflexively pressed both feet into the ground and winced at his knee, immediately leaning back barely touching his foot to the ground. "What? Why would you ask that?"

"Because if you don't, then you need to let him go," Kuroo answered without flinching. "I'm your friend, but I'm also kind of Iwaizumi's. I don't know you well enough to be able to read you… but Iwaizumi's an open book, and it's pretty obvious he still has it bad for you. So if you really don't feel the same way, you need to stop leading him on."

Oikawa stiffened.

"He doesn't—" Oikawa shook his head and looked away. "…I'm not—"

"Yeah, he does," Kuroo answered with a small smile. "I know you've got your history, but if you put aside everything you feel, you have to be able to tell, just by the way Iwaizumi looks at you. And, come on, think about it; why would someone who hated you so much that he couldn't stand to be in the same room change so quickly? There's literally only one emotion strong enough."

Oikawa's stomach dropped, but he shook his head anyway. "You're wrong," he mumbled. "It's not—"

"And you're a smart guy," Kuroo continued, looking back to the television. "I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job, but… it's pretty obvious that you don't actually need Iwaizumi to always come in with the players, right? I mean, you don't normally do that with the non-volleyball players, don't you? So why do you keep asking him to come in, when you know it would be easier for all of you if he didn't?"

Oikawa didn't have an answer to that.

* * *

Iwaizumi was the stupidest person to have ever existed in any universe in the entire fucking galaxy.

This was a sentiment that almost everybody he knew would agree with at some point or another, and normally Iwaizumi would object, but in this specific scenario, he had no defense.

He should've left as soon as he realized Oikawa was in the bar. If it weren't for Matsukawa's expression, it was Iwaizumi's stupid Oikawa-senses tingling the shit out of him. He should've left immediately because so far in his life, whenever he and Oikawa have both been around alcohol, _nothing_ good had ever happened.

Iwaizumi didn't remember much about last night after Oikawa showed up and when he woke up, only two things were at the forefront of his mind:

The light, fleeting kiss.

The heavy, solid punch.

Both sensations were still lingering when the haze of waking up passed; just as Iwaizumi's lips felt tickled, his cheek ached horribly.

As he pushed himself up, he could feel his bones creaking with the additional emotional weight on him. He swore quietly under his breath and forced himself into the bathroom, peeling off his clothes laden with the stench of alcohol. Stepping into the shower with his stomach heavy with regret was too much déjà vu for his taste and as he stood under the hot water, Iwaizumi wished that the resurfacing memories would wash off the way the droplets his skin.

Obviously, he hadn't wanted to kiss Oikawa.

Iwaizumi sighed, leaned his forehead to the wall of his shower.

That was a lie, he clearly did.

He just hadn't actually _intended_ to, but alcohol induced courage overrode the logical cortex of his brain. As angry and hurt as Iwaizumi still was, it was impossible to not feel something unfolding in his chest at the thought of Oikawa; he had been coming to terms with what he still felt for Oikawa and not only did it fill Iwaizumi with regret and guilt, it also filled him with even more anger. At that point, there was so much anger in him that it felt impossible to contain, certainly improbable to feel all at once—Iwaizumi felt so angry that he didn't feel it at all, and now if he looked back, he thought thought maybe that was because he wasn't anymore. He wasn't angry, he wasn't hateful, he wasn't upset, he was exhausted at carrying the weight of a universe in his heart for someone who certainly stopped feeling that way a long time ago.

Iwaizumi didn't tell Matsukawa the way he did Hanamaki, but they were one and the same; even if he'd told Hanamaki to not tell anyone, he wouldn't be surprised or angry if Matsukawa knew by the time they met up in the bar. He didn't know if he wanted to ask, because he didn't know if he was ready to talk about it. Or, he thought, maybe Matsukawa figured it out on his own; Iwaizumi had always been a sort of open book even if he didn't realize it, and at this point, he was too tired to care.

Matsukawa had texted Iwaizumi near the end of his day to ask if he wanted to grab a drink. Iwaizumi had been in the middle of yelling at Hinata when it arrived; he eventually obtained Kageyama's word (Kageyama could be trusted with this, Hinata could not) that he would take the week off and rest, and so Iwaizumi left Hinata's apartment and headed to where Matsukawa said he'd be. Matsukawa hadn't mentioned that Oikawa would be coming and when he showed up, he truly believed that his friends hadn't set this up in an attempt for them to reconcile.

Oikawa showing up set off a whirlwind of emotions in his chest. Just his presence always made Iwaizumi's heart flutter or pound, and despite how exhausted he felt, he saw red. It didn't matter whether or not Iwaizumi had fully come to terms with what he felt; what he felt for Oikawa at any point in time would always be a horrible juxtaposition that he didn't think should be allowed to coexist. It didn't matter that loving Oikawa felt like an intrinsic part of his personality; the way Oikawa had hurt him was still the absolute first thing he'd think of.

But then, Iwaizumi would think about how much he had hurt _him_ , and it didn't even seem to matter that while Oikawa intentionally hurt him, Iwaizumi had accidentally done so. Pain was pain, and it wasn't like he hurt just anyone; he hurt Oikawa, the one person he had promised to him, himself, and the universe that he'd never hurt. Thinking about hurting Oikawa made it difficult to breathe, and knowing that he had done it unintentionally seemed to make it worse because Iwaizumi had always considered himself to be a perceptive person, especially with Oikawa, so how did he not realize what he was doing?

There was a line between doing too much for someone and doing not enough; Iwaizumi felt as though he kept crossing over that line and he had never ever been able to balance on it. He spent the first eighteen years of their life willing to do anything for him, and then the next nine disappearing when he needed him. Had he known about Oikawa's knee, he would have dropped everything for him, but he'd put himself in a position where it seemed he was the only person who didn't know about it.

He'd do anything for Oikawa, it just seemed that he'd do everything at the wrong time.

The vortex of feelings was taking root, but by the time Iwaizumi had started considering leaving, Hanamaki slid into the seat next to him. He assumed it was to make sure Iwaizumi and Oikawa didn't sit next to each other like last time, but that just meant Oikawa was too easily in his line of sight; even if Iwaizumi made sure to avert his gaze, his peripheral vision still would catch glimpses of him.

Oikawa Tooru was objectively attractive; this wasn't really ever something up for discussion, but to Iwaizumi, it had always been more than that. Oikawa had his face and his hair and all that was fine, but what Iwaizumi had always been attracted to was his drive, his determination, his pride, his passion, and his loyalty. Iwaizumi realized that everything he'd loved about Oikawa had never wavered; Oikawa Tooru was still the same person he had been in love with, and so it seemed only to make sense that he was still in love with him because he had loved who Oikawa was at his core and that core had never changed.

Iwaizumi felt a lot of things for and about Oikawa, but pure, true hatred was not one of them and could never be. Any hatred he thought he felt was a defense mechanism born out of hurt; he'd heard that loving someone was giving them the power to hurt and trusting them not to. He'd given Oikawa all the power and could only blame himself when he'd used it against Iwaizumi.

But he was tired of being angry; it had never done Iwaizumi any good, and he didn't want to keep hurting Oikawa just because he hurt him. Oikawa lashed out; that had always been his defense mechanism, and Iwaizumi had always taken it because up until they broke up, he'd always thought that Oikawa never actually _meant_ to hurt him. He'd lash out when he was frustrated, and Iwaizumi was fine with letting him do so because afterwards, Oikawa would always apologize, whether directly or indirectly. He'd be cognizant of his behavior and they'd had a balance where it never felt like Oikawa was taking advantage of Iwaizumi's patience with him; Oikawa wasn't perfect, but Iwaizumi wasn't either, and how they acted when they realized what they'd done wrong was more important than what they did out of anger.

That was ten years ago, however, and a lot could change in a decade.

Iwaizumi had hurt Oikawa first— _badly_ —probably as much or more as Oikawa hurt him and Iwaizumi couldn't help it; he felt bad. He felt terrible, awful for what he put Oikawa through, and then leaving him when he needed him most. Oikawa never reached out and even if it wasn't his fault, even if Iwaizumi didn't have an obligation to be there for every single one of Oikawa's whims, it didn't matter because the person he loved most in the world endured a universe of pain while entirely alone. Iwaizumi didn't want to linger on _well, Oikawa could've reached out_ versus _maybe I should have_ or _why should I always reach out?_ versus _why didn't I reach out?_ He wanted to concentrate on _Oikawa was going through his worst nightmare all alone._

Iwaizumi didn't want to fight that night. He may have felt anger when Oikawa walked in, but by the time he sat down, Iwaizumi had given a final sigh that felt like it took with it his remaining fury. He was surprised at how easy it was to just decide to let go of everything; he'd been internally struggling with it, feeling like he was doing endless sprints from one end of the spectrum to another, but seeing Oikawa in that moment made it so easy because, at the end, he'd always care for Oikawa more than anything else.

He had confidence that alcohol would make the situation substantially less awkward, but he hadn't thought it would be so powerful as to result in them being able to talk to each other in a civilized way. It almost felt like they were in high school again, conversation flowing easily between them; there was still an imbued delicacy and fragility, but he'd take that over glares and icy silences.

When Hanamaki and Matsukawa left, he was surprised that Oikawa had opted to stay; he must be drunk, Iwaizumi had thought, but so was he. They'd been cordial—maybe even a little friendly and casual—with each other, but Iwaizumi hadn't thought Oikawa reciprocated it enough to be willing to stay after their friends had left. There was a noticeable lag between when his brain thought to do something and when his body followed; the only time it was immediate was when he was kissing Oikawa after feeling his fingers curling around the back of his neck, because kissing him had always been instinctual, ever since the very first time on his porch.

There had been a part, a very small but still sober part, of his brain that was telling him this was a horrible idea and could only end badly, but he couldn't stop himself. The night they'd slept together had been a hazy whirlwind of bruised kisses, pink welts from nails, and hot open-mouthed kisses trailing down his body, but this kiss, something sweet and gentle and loving, was what he wouldn't even let himself think about missing.

When Oikawa pushed him away, Iwaizumi was taken aback despite having expected it eventually. But the way Oikawa was looking at him ripped apart the heart that the kiss had just started to delicately repair and he instantly knew he couldn't let this be the last time they spoke because if he just let him leave like this, this time Oikawa would walk out of his life permanently.

The look in Oikawa's eyes wasn't _I'm mad, but give me enough time and I'll calm down_. It was something Iwaizumi had never seen before and he didn't know what he could do, but his gut instinct was to try to talk to him immediately, that in this scenario, letting Oikawa leave without him knowing that Iwaizumi didn't want him to would end whatever remaining possibility of reconciliation between them.

He hadn't expected the punch but when it happened, he wasn't too surprised by it. However, the physical pain dulled instantly at the way Oikawa looked at him; it had seemed that in that moment, all of the anger and hatred in the universe manifested in the way Oikawa was looking at him; it felt like all the pain Iwaizumi had felt up to this point in his life hitting him all at once. Then he spoke, and at that moment, he realized that he'd been naïve all along, that there was no chance of them ever going back to even a fraction of what they had been as friends:

_"_ _Iwaizumi, everything that's gone wrong in my life can directly be traced back to you and if I had a choice between playing volleyball again and forgetting you, it would be the latter. So fuck you and stay the fuck away from me. I don't ever want to see you ever again._ _"_

He'd hurt Oikawa more than he ever dreamed.

Stepping out of the shower once he felt as though he'd washed off everything he could, Iwaizumi dried off and got dressed. He took a painkiller with a spare energy drink and grabbed his phone and keys, heading out all in under ten minutes. The remnants of the hangover that the shower didn't absolve were fading with the fresh air and medicine he took, and by the time he reached a familiar apartment after a memorized and quick walk, he knew the nervousness in his stomach wasn't alcohol related at all.

He thought about Oikawa the entire walk over, but pushed him out of his mind as best he could.

He pressed the doorbell and took a step back as he waited for the door to open, inhaling deeply once it did.

"Hey," he said and cleared his throat. "…If now's a good time, can we talk?"

Himari's expression changed three times since she opened the door, evolving from pleasant to worried and finally settling on something between exasperation and anger. Iwaizumi was prepared for her to say no; his decision to see her had been one made in the shower and now that he was here, he wasn't sure how to explain it in a way that wouldn't leave him wondering if it would alter her (already negative) perception of him.

Iwaizumi was surprised when she nodded after a pause. Himari stepped aside to let him in; as Iwaizumi loitered in the entryway to slip out of his shoes, he felt her brush past him, a different perfume left in her wake. He was still trying to discern where he'd smelled it before when he caught sight of an offered ice pack in his peripheral vision. He realized maybe that was why she let him in so readily; Iwaizumi tried to shake his head to reassure her it was fine, but Himari shook her head and grabbed his hand.

"Your face has really been going through it."

Iwaizumi faltered, eventually admitting defeat with a tired smile. "Thank you," he said quietly. He headed over to the couch, a path he'd taken hundreds of times, and took a seat. Himari set a glass of water down in front of him and took a seat in the oversized armchair he'd fallen asleep in countless times, more often than not waking up with her cuddled up against him.

He hadn't realized how much he missed her until he saw her; Oikawa coming back into his life as the destructive whirlwind he'd always been made it too easy for Iwaizumi to put off reveling in his breakup with Himari. He hadn't had a chance to properly grieve the loss of what had been a stable, loving relationship until he'd ruined it. Seeing her brought back a flood of memories that made his chest ache and Iwaizumi looked away before she could catch sight of him watching her.

"Why are you here?" she asked quietly, folding one leg beneath her. She had her hands resting on top of her other propped up knee for her cheek to lean against and Iwaizumi remembered dryly calling her a pretzel for the positions she was able to contort herself into. "…You're not running away from someone, are you? I guess this would be a good place, no one would expect you to hide out at an ex-fiancee's."

Iwaizumi smirked weakly at that and shook his head. "No, the person who hit me doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

She hummed and he could feel her studying him.

"…Oikawa, right?"

Iwaizumi didn't bother answering. He removed the ice pack from his face for a moment and pressed his thumbs into it, reshaping it before bringing it up to his lip this time. Himari was smart; she'd been able to pick up on nuances in his behavior that sometimes even Hanamaki and Matsukawa weren't able to, so Iwaizumi knew he didn't need to confirm or deny anything—she'd be able to figure it out. He heaved another sigh, keeping his gaze downcast as he finally said, "I'm sorry."

Himari didn't say anything at first, but it was a calm silence.

"For?" she prompted.

"Everything," Iwaizumi answered quietly. "For choosing my job over you constantly. For taking advantage of your patience. For not listening to you when you brought it up. For not realizing my own feelings so that I could be honest with you. I'm owning up to the horrible boyfriend I was, and I'm sorry to have put you through that. I'm sorry for not trying to save our relationship—"

"You don't have to apologize for that," Himari interrupted gently and Iwaizumi looked over in surprise. Her smile widened and she shrugged. "I know I brought it up, but once a few more days passed… I was glad you didn't, because if you did, I likely would've taken you back. But then this would just happen again, and I think it would've ended up in a cycle. And thank you for your apology, Hajime, I really appreciate it. Sometimes feelings fade away and relationships end. We can't help that."

Iwaizumi briefly smiled and lowered his gaze to the floor again. Everything about his relationship with Oikawa and Himari felt opposite. Himari had always made him feel safe and calm; even when they fought, there had been a security underlying the tension, because until the last one, they'd always worked it out. Even now, after having broken up, sitting here in her apartment still brought a serenity over him.

With Oikawa, everything had been chaos and excitement from the start; the way Oikawa made him feel had always been extraordinary and never just extra ordinary, and their break-up was laden with what Iwaizumi thought was the worst pain he'd ever feel until last night. The safety he felt with Oikawa was different; it was a trust and loyalty that he thought Oikawa would always be there no matter what, a stark contrast to the way he made him feel, constantly feeling like he'd just combust with emotion. Everything, with Oikawa, was magnified and while it meant the negative was all encompassing, so was the love.

"It's just hard to accept that somewhere along the way, someone you love started falling out of love with you," Himari murmured. "Sometimes it happens, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. And it's just bad timing that your ex shows up when we break up…"

"I promise," Iwaizumi said, throat feeling strangled, "that it absolutely wasn't—"

"I know," Himari reassured with a kind smile that sent the knot in Iwaizumi's stomach straight to his throat. "It's just the worst coincidence. We really loved each other though, you know?"

Iwaizumi nodded, swallowing thickly. "…Yeah."

It was silent. He could tell that Himari was watching him and Iwaizumi kept his eyes down, hoped that if she didn't see his expression, he could push off what she would undoubtedly realize. When she hummed, his heart joined the knot in his throat and Iwaizumi closed his eyes, brow knitting.

"…You know, when you love someone that much… nobody else really stands a chance. I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse, though."

Iwaizumi pressed his lips into a thin line and tried to focus on the cold of the ice pack, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything besides the way his heart started to beat faster. "…I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled weakly. Himari laughed lightly.

"Come on, Hajime. Don't lie to me. You still love him and I have a feeling it's more of realizing you never stopped instead of falling for him all over again."

Iwaizumi didn't say anything; he just lowered the ice pack and started to reshape it, noting that it was much easier to do so now. Licking his dry lips, he cleared his throat, apologizing quietly. When he heard her reassure that he didn't have to, he shook his head and finally looked up. "…I loved you," he said and she returned with another smile. "I really loved being with you, and…"

"It was just shy of being enough," she finished and Iwaizumi dropped his gaze again, knitting his brow. "…Yeah. I guess if I was going to lose you, though, at least it would be to the guy you've been crazy about ever since high school."

"He's an asshole. I'm sorry."

"I feel like I should be saying I'm sorry to you, in that case…"

Iwaizumi smirked slightly and shook his head again. "And you didn't lose me to him, we're… not going to get back together or anything. But I wanted to be entirely honest with you because it's the least of what you deserve."

"Thank you," she said again, "but you don't have to apologize about that. He didn't cause our breakup, because our breakup was because we're not right for each other. It just got muddled with some really bad timing. I like to think that eventually we can be friends again, and because of that…"

Himari hesitated and her silence had Iwaizumi looking up, blinking at the way she was looking at him with her head tilted and a small smile on her lips.

"…Let me say that it's really concerning to know that the person who makes you happier than anyone else is the same person who's breaking your heart this much."

* * *

Weeks passed and even though it was what he told Iwaizumi he wanted, Oikawa was growing increasingly frustrated with his absence.

When Sakusa showed up the first time after the bar, Oikawa wasn't surprised to see him by himself. He managed to ask about it casually, and Sakusa answered that he had asked him to not come anymore. Oikawa had been surprised; wondering if Sakusa was covering, he couldn't help but press for an explanation under the guise of it being for work and Sakusa answered that it was because he felt the dynamic between the two of them would be detrimental for everyone.

Oikawa managed to keep his expression from changing too much at that.

_"Is there a message you'd like me to pass on?"_

_Oikawa smiled. "Nothing that would be appropriate for you to be the messenger of. Raise your arm, please."_

He even asked Atsumu about Iwaizumi and while he said that he was briefly updating him on his condition, they hadn't had significantly long conversations. Oikawa passingly mentioned that he didn't approve of Iwaizumi not being here for Atsumu, and Atsumu had immediately defended him.

_"Iwaizumi-san's not here 'cause I told him not t'be. He's a real good guy."_

_Oikawa glanced at him and it took everything in his power to not wrinkle his nose. "Quite fond of your trainer, aren't you, Tsumu-chan?"_

_"The whole team is," Atsumu huffed. "Iwaizumi-san's the kinda guy who'd be there fer ya if ya need anything! But I don't wanna worry him unnecessarily, so once things are looking good, I'll start askin' him to come if he wants to. He's just the type of guy you wanna make proud, y'know?"_

_Oikawa dryly noted that it seemed the entire team had a thing for him and Atsumu grinned._

It had been absolute zero communication between them and Oikawa found himself staring at his short chat history with Iwaizumi for much longer than he'd like to admit. He wasn't going to text him, and he wasn't expecting him to reach out either, so he wasn't sure why he kept staring. He had made himself crystal clear and Iwaizumi was doing what he had told him to, and yet the pit in Oikawa's stomach kept growing until it felt that his entire body was a black hole.

On one hand, Iwaizumi was doing just what Oikawa wanted.

On the other, why wasn't he ignoring that and showing up anyway? Oikawa maintained that he didn't want to see him, and yet every time his door opened, he found himself looking up and hoping that it was Iwaizumi.

Bringing a capped pen to his lips, Oikawa was facing his computer with an article pulled up, but his eyes weren't focused on the text. It was irresponsible, he thought, for Iwaizumi to just stop showing up. It didn't matter that Sakusa was fine and had been the one to tell Iwaizumi to not come anymore; he'd expect that he would at least keep coming and follow through to the end of his treatment. After all, Iwaizumi should at least put aside their personal feelings for that.

Oikawa closed his eyes for a moment and sighed; even he couldn't delude himself into truly believing that. This wasn't just a matter of personal feelings and, he'd admit, Kuroo was right; Iwaizumi didn't _need_ to be there, and he knew that too.

He had been texting Hanamaki and Matsukawa; he didn't quite trust them even when they promised that they made sure neither of them had invited Iwaizumi to plans they asked him to and stuck with texting. He had seen Kuroo a few times, Kenma tagging along one time (clearly against his will.) Oikawa was slowly rebuilding a support system he hadn't realized he needed, and yet a vital part still felt missing.

The chasm that Oikawa had woken up with still felt like a gaping wound in the middle of his chest, lingering long after his facial injuries and hand had healed. It had become so persistent that he wondered if it was the tiny chance that the medicine he'd taken was still lingering in his system and mixed with the alcohol, but after almost two weeks of no painkillers and absolutely no alcohol, the hollow feeling still persisted.

Seeing Iwaizumi filled him with so much anger, but he didn't think not seeing him would do the same. He couldn't just _not_ see him, ever, Oikawa thought angrily, they'd have to work together, just because of their professions. What was Iwaizumi planning to do then, would he send someone else in his stead? Bring along Hanamaki or Matsukawa to have them act as an intermediary?

"Oikawa-san!"

Pen lifting from his lip, Oikawa looked up to see Hinata standing at the entrance way, grinning. Kageyama and Ushijima stood behind him and the three filed into the room—was hospital security actually that lacking around here?—and approached his desk. Oikawa blinked a few more times before he smiled robotically. "Shoyo-kun! Tobio-chan, Ushiwaka-chan, what brings you here?"

His heart dropped and smile faltered. _They better not be plotting something._ "…Is—"

"Iwaizumi-san took the day off," Hinata supplied and Oikawa immediately felt a flood of relief. "We're here for our check-ups!"

"…"

"…"

"All three of you… get your annual check-up at the same time?" Oikawa asked. "…And you come to a _hospital_ for it?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"So, coffee?" Hinata asked and Oikawa's eyes narrowed, gaze moving to Kageyama and Ushijima. Despite their more stoic appearances, Oikawa saw the way Kageyama's gaze shifted and even Ushijima blinked a couple times more often than he normally would.

Oikawa didn't know what their plan was, but he knew he didn't like it.

Clearing his throat, Oikawa shook his head. "Sorry, Shoyo-kun, maybe next time. I'm pretty busy with some research and reading to catch up on today."

"J-just an hour!" Hinata blubbered. "Or, you know, we could wait until you get some work done—"

"Mm, once I get into the groove, I'd really prefer not to be interrupted."

"Or maybe you can work there?! You know, endless supply of caffeine—"

"It's quite loud in cafes, which makes reading difficult."

Hinata's face noticeably fell and Oikawa tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. He folded his arms across his chest and wrinkled his nose. "What's with the face, Shoyo-kun? Don't you have two people behind you to go get coffee with? Why are you so determined for me to go with you?"

Hinata flinched and Oikawa drummed his fingers along his arm, shifting his gaze to Kageyama. He blinked impassively and Oikawa then looked to Ushijima, but grew annoyed after just a couple of blinks and looked back to Hinata.

"Shoyo-kun."

"…It's Iwaizumi-san's day off, _but_ —"

"No," Oikawa interrupted, clearing his throat. "If Iwaizumi has something to say, he can tell me himself instead of sending the three stooges in his stead—"

"Iwaizumi-san didn't send us—"

"He wouldn't do that—"

"Iwaizumi-san would actually not appreciate this—"

"Well," Oikawa smirked dryly, looking up at them, "Iwaizumi's really got his own fanclub, doesn't he? And part of that fanclub is to try and, what, repair relationships that he himself can't?"

"H-he's not, he's fine—"

"He's _fine_?" Oikawa asked before he could stop himself. Hinata's breath hitched and even if he tried to backtrack what he said, Oikawa couldn't focus on anything else. Maybe that was why Iwaizumi didn't seem to push back against Sakusa's request to stop accompanying him. Iwaizumi was _fine_ ; he didn't care at all, after making Oikawa relive something he'd spent years repressing. It was another spontaneous kiss that threatened to shatter the delicate balance they had just seemed to be approaching, and Oikawa couldn't believe that Iwaizumi would be doing this to him _again_ , like Oikawa existed just for him to mess around with, string along and then toss away when he didn't want him anymore. It was like watching the same film with the same ending he didn't like, and yet Iwaizumi was forcing him to rewatch it.

Inhaling sharply, Oikawa nodded when he heard Hinata ask if _he_ was fine.

"Yes. Like I said, I have plenty of work, so—"

"Oikawa-san," Hinata pressed, frown deepening, "we're worried!"

"Has he said anything to you?" Oikawa found himself asking before he could think to rephrase. He didn't expect Iwaizumi to be talking about their personal business with anyone; if Hanamaki and Matsukawa didn't know, then certainly the national team wouldn't. The one thing Oikawa knew for sure about Iwaizumi was his consistency and dependability; with few exceptions, Iwaizumi Hajime would always be someone Oikawa could trust, because he would never knowingly do anything to hurt him.

 _Knowingly_ was the key word.

"…No," Hinata admitted and Oikawa exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "But! He—"

"You should talk to him," Kageyama interrupted and Oikawa's eyes narrowed. "He hasn't said anything, but… we're worried about him."

"Worried about him, hm?" Oikawa couldn't help the sardonic smirk. He leaned forward to cradle his chin in his palm, eyes flashing. "So no matter what, Iwaizumi has to be looked after? You're here to try and force me to go talk to someone I clearly don't want to, because what I want doesn't matter? Have you considered that, or does he have everyone so smitten—"

"Oikawa," Ushijima interrupted and Oikawa's expression darkened immediately, his smirk turning into a scowl. "Stop. You're being immature."

" _I'm_ —"

"You are," Ushijima said. "Iwaizumi-san has not asked us here, but we are because we know that something is bothering him. Our presence here on his behalf is not a disregard to what you want; it is us knowing that something is bothering you as well. Stop vilifying Iwaizumi-san into the person you know he's not."

Something very nearly exploded in his chest and his hand reflexively clenched.

Oikawa's scowl deepened; he brought a fist down to his desk harshly and while Ushijima didn't flinch, Hinata jolted and Kageyama seemed startled. He clenched his fist and inhaled sharply, though he bit down on his tongue and looked away. It took him a few moments but he was able to repress the sudden anger that almost overtook him; Oikawa cleared his throat and managed a breathy laugh. "Ushiwaka-chan, you seem quite confident in knowing things about me, considering we haven't spoken in nearly a decade. How familiar you are with Iwaizumi is none of my concern and I don't care to know, but you don't know me. Please stop assuming you do."

"The way you reacted seems to support my assumptions, though," Ushijima answered easily and Oikawa's breath caught in his throat. "You're a calm person, Oikawa. Why, then, is it so easy to rile you up just by mentioning Iwaizumi?"

"…Your assumptions?" Oikawa echoed, looking at him. "And, pray tell, what might those be?"

Ushijima gazed at him evenly.

"I'm fairly sure you know, Oikawa."

Oikawa barely heard Kageyama mumble an excuse and forcibly drag Hinata away. Ushijima remained where he was until Kageyama called for him; he left Oikawa with an all too familiar look that made Oikawa's stomach twist and turn. He was left feeling like he couldn't breathe and when the door closed, Oikawa pushed his chair back enough so that he could fold over, forearms pressed to his knees as he brought a shaking fist to his chest. His other hand gripped the desk so harshly he felt the wood squeaking beneath his fingers and when he heard the door open, it took him a moment to sit straight.

His chest was still tight, voice strained as he answered that he was fine to a colleague's concern. Oikawa attempted to go back to his readings, forced any thoughts of Ushijima and Iwaizumi out of his mind.

Ushijima didn't know what he was talking about and Oikawa would be _damned_ if Ushijima, of all people, was right. He hadn't spoken to Oikawa in over ten years, and Oikawa wanted to laugh at the thought that Ushijima thought he knew him because he was now Iwaizumi's friend.

"Oikawa-san, you want a coffee? Going to head to the cart."

Oikawa smiled. "That would be great, thank you. I've got lots to do tonight."

Two hours passed before Oikawa realized he got absolutely no reading done and he was still thinking about Iwaizumi's expression that night at the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone is suffering but at least himari finally got the apology and closure she deserves, so someone is at peace. will oikawa ever be honest with himself or will he live out the rest of his life in denial?! will iwa ever feel true happiness or is he doomed to heartache and misery?!
> 
> (spoiler alert: oikawa eventually pulls his head out of the denial cloud and iwa will smile again)
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments appreciated greatly ♡


	11. lead me to the garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he watched the world until he felt grounded again, finally allowing himself to breathe because as heavy as honesty could be, lying was more so.

Iwaizumi was many things, but fine was absolutely not one of them.

It had been a relief when Sakusa asked him to no longer accompany him to the sessions. Iwaizumi's injuries hurt less this time; he didn't enjoy that Oikawa had hit him multiple times so that he could actually compare the resulting effects, but that was now what their relationship was like. The first time Oikawa had punched him had been of anger; he'd seen the fury in Oikawa's expression, felt the force behind his knuckles. The second time still hurt-when would a fist to the face not hurt?-but his expression didn't hold the same rage; it had seemed more of exasperation than anything. However, that didn't mean he sported no aftereffects; Iwaizumi didn't think twice about it, but when Sakusa murmured _I'd rather you not accompany me to see the person who gave you those bruises_ , Iwaizumi wished he'd at least tried some concealer to hide the discoloration. Despite his relief, Iwaizumi had pushed back, insisted that it was fine, that he and Oikawa could still be professional, and he wanted to be there for Sakusa.

_"My shoulder is almost healed, and it's only a few more sessions. It's nothing worth the catastrophe that is you and Oikawa-san being in the same room together."_

Sakusa was as blunt as ever and if Iwaizumi's heart wasn't permanently muddled in despair at this point, it may have stung a bit.

Iwaizumi was sure to let Sakusa know that if he needed anything, anything at _all_ , he and Oikawa would definitely be able to put their differences aside. Sakusa had nodded. _"Thank you, Iwaizumi-san, but it's not necessary. You should focus on Miya instead."_

_"You're back to calling him Miya, huh?"_

Sakusa blinked at him and then promptly walked away.

Iwaizumi was grateful that unlike most of the team, Sakusa had a natural respect for privacy. It would be too easy for him to take advantage of Iwaizumi's guilt and pry information out of him, and he wouldn't be surprised if that was what Hinata, Bokuto, and Hoshiumi kept calling him aside for. Sakusa was perceptive; Iwaizumi didn't even bother to try and lie that Oikawa wasn't the one who had hit him because he definitely immediately knew.

But Sakusa did have a point; Atsumu hadn't asked him to any sessions yet, but he was starting to respond to his texts more often, which had been relieving enough for Iwaizumi to not think about how Atsumu was also seeing Oikawa constantly. However, as the novelty of Atsumu seeming to return to his normal spirits wore off, Iwaizumi found himself subtly reading between his lines to see if he could glean anything about Oikawa.

When Atsumu finally asked if he could come with him to some of the later sessions, Iwaizumi's heart had clenched but he'd agreed and promised that once Atsumu was ready for him to, he'd absolutely be there for him.

Iwaizumi knew that physically, he could stand to be in the same room as Oikawa, because it was just a matter of moving his limbs to carry him to that specific location and using his muscles to keep himself rooted to the spot. Emotionally, it was harder, but mentally was where Iwaizumi thought he'd break down; he didn't know if he could stand in the same room without immediately bursting into apology. Iwaizumi didn't care if his apology wouldn't put him back in Oikawa's good graces; what he desperately wanted was for Oikawa to know that he hadn't meant to hurt him, that he was sorry for all the pain he'd caused.

But that was the thing: Oikawa didn't want an apology. He didn't want anything to do with Iwaizumi at all, and somehow, being told that directly to his face hurt more than losing Oikawa all over again. He knew it was selfish to want to apologize because that wasn't what Oikawa wanted; all an apology could do at this point was alleviate Iwaizumi of some of his own guilt, but it felt like he'd need to apologize a thousand times over to start chipping away at the mountain.

He had never actually seen the true extent of what Oikawa was feeling until it manifested in his expression that night. Iwaizumi had seen, and could handle, Oikawa's passive aggressive jabs, his sly digs, and his smug expressions; they hurt, especially because Oikawa knew where to hit him, but they were all incidents that Iwaizumi could tolerate, for the most part. He could be at peace with the idea of Oikawa hurting him, because he had hurt him, and this was how Oikawa handled pain: lashing out and returning it.

But what made that night at the bar hurt more than anything else was that Oikawa was being painfully honest; he was spitting words out before he had a chance to twist them so everything was raw and everything was pure emotion. Even if there was always a little bit of truth in Oikawa's jabs, they were still mostly exaggerations: things that would rile him up but could ultimately let go of after a few days. However, Oikawa was speaking entirely unfiltered words that came directly from the very core of what he felt; there were no underlying intentions to what he said besides being completely truthful, meaning that he wasn't telling Iwaizumi to stay away to hurt him, he was telling him to stay away because he didn't want Iwaizumi in his life ever again.

Oikawa had been so direct, leaving absolutely no room for any misunderstandings. Even when he disappeared, Iwaizumi could think that maybe it hadn't been about him, and Oikawa was going through something (which turned out to be true). But that wasn't the case anymore; Oikawa said what he said and Iwaizumi realized at that moment that he had hurt Oikawa so much that he didn't think he could ever even start apologizing for it.

"Hey there, Iwaizumi."

"You holding up okay?"

Iwaizumi knew his friends meant well, but the fact that they didn't even try to hide their pity made him want to smother himself with a pillow.

Glaring tiredly, Iwaizumi peered on either side of the hallway to confirm they weren't hiding anything before allowing them into his apartment. Hanamaki glared in return, huffing _we wouldn't do that to you_ as he strode past him, Matsukawa following and adding _anymore_. Iwaizumi scoffed; after he closed the door behind him, his gaze lingered on the takeout they had brought with them.

Normally, Iwaizumi would have offered to help them navigate his kitchen, but even though weeks had passed, he was still emotionally exhausted and weighed down. He threw himself onto the length of the couch and listened to the way his friends were bustling around his kitchen, the squeak of plastic take-out containers and cupboards opening and closing. It was only the smell of something delicious drawing closer that had Iwaizumi stirring; he pushed himself up from his position on the couch to see a plate of tofu sitting on the coffee table in front of him, soon joined by various other dishes he was surprised they knew he liked.

He didn't realize how hungry he was until he sat up and reached for a pair of chopsticks, grumbling his gratitude. "What, you came here just to feed me?" he asked.

"Well, we also came to talk to you, if we can say his name without you crying."

"Shut the _fuck_ up."

Iwaizumi had never thought of his friends to be particularly sensitive to feelings, but they always seemed to know when to show up. In the weeks that followed, he could tell that they wondered what had happened; Hanamaki had texted him the morning after and when Iwaizumi said he and Oikawa weren't speaking again, he had asked why. Iwaizumi refused to answer and Hanamaki, surprisingly, dropped the subject, and had held off on the instinct to interrogate until now.

He wasn't sure if Hanamaki was just that good at reading him or if Iwaizumi was that easy to read, but now, he thought, would be as good a time as ever. He'd rather not talk about it ever again, but they were his friends and if he and Oikawa were going to cause a rift again, they deserved to know the reason why in a more time efficient manner than last time.

Iwaizumi was exhausted already, though.

"Why don't you ask him?" Iwaizumi grumbled, biting into the tofu. "Bet he's got a lot to say about me."

"He refuses to see either of us or answer our questions," Matsukawa answered with a shrug. "I don't think Oikawa trusts us when we promise we're not trying to set you two up. He seems to usually be at work or with Kuroo, though, so at least he's alive and out there."

Hearing Oikawa's name had Iwaizumi's breath catching in his throat, the last bite of tofu suspended in mid-air and he ignored the way Hanamaki jabbed at Matsukawa with his elbow. It took him a moment too long to mumble 'oh' and he lowered his chopsticks. He could think Oikawa's name all he wanted and train himself to not react, but hearing someone else say it would always be jarring. Just hearing _Oikawa_ verbalized and brought to life made his throat close, his heart seize, and stomach drop, all at once; years later, Oikawa still had such an impact on him even with his absence, and Iwaizumi was genuinely afraid it would be like this for the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "…Okay."

"You want us to, though?" Hanamaki asked with a devilish smirk. "Oikawa can be scary, but if it's me and Matsukawa, I think we can hold him down if you want to see him in person."

Iwaizumi scoffed weakly at the idea of Matsukawa and Hanamaki each holding Oikawa by an arm as Iwaizumi tried to talk to him. He finished the last of the tofu, taking his time in chewing; they had brought him his favorite dish from his favorite restaurant, and yet Iwaizumi could barely taste the flavor and found that the texture just felt rubbery against his tongue. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. "…No," he mumbled. "I fucked it up. He's never going to want to see me again."

"Come on, Iwaizumi, that's extreme—"

"No," he interrupted and rubbed his face tiredly. He pressed his lips into a thin line and ran his tongue across the seam before sighing heavily. "…I kissed him."

He jerked when Hanamaki kicked the table from the way he jolted and just barely managed to catch the plate from flipping over. "You _what_?" he asked incredulously.

Matsukawa hadn't reacted the way Hanamaki had, but he was still staring at him. "You kissed him?"

Hanamaki immediately bristled and shoved at Matsukawa's arm. "Fuck, see, I told you we should've made a copy of the key—"

"No, _I_ said we should do that, and you said it didn't matter—"

"Then why didn't you tell me I was wrong?!"

"I _did_! You said I was overreacting and that it doesn't even matter because we're always together—"

"You and your stupid job!"

"Me and my stupid job?! If—"

"Wait, wait, we'll fight about this later," Hanamaki said and Matsukawa nodded after a moment. Iwaizumi was amused at how quickly they changed the subject and mood, but the mirth faded from his expression quickly when the two fixed their gazes back on him. "You kissed him? Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi's natural instinct was to glare back and he bought himself more time by eating another piece of tofu. Talking about the kiss ruined his appetite though and Iwaizumi forced himself to swallow the small bite, only because spitting it out seemed like it would be too rude, even in front of Hanamaki and Matsukawa. It felt like rubber moving down his throat and Iwaizumi visibly winced.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi mumbled at last, thinking he liked it better when they were arguing with each other. He crossed his arms and leaned back into the sofa, casting his gaze to a corner of his ceiling. "…It was just one kiss. Or two, I can't remember-"

" _Two_? Wait, so—"

His friends were quiet as it took them thirty seconds to process this information.

"He kissed you _back_?"

Iwaizumi was quiet for a moment, which was all Hanamaki and Matsukawa needed for an answer. He had tried to not dwell on it because as drunk as he had been to have the courage to kiss him, that was also why Oikawa had kissed him back. Iwaizumi knew that alcohol had given him the courage to do what he wanted to do, but couldn't say the same for Oikawa; it was likely that for him, he hadn't wanted to, but alcohol impaired his judgment.

Iwaizumi hadn't told anyone what had happened, and assumed Oikawa hadn't either. However, just because he didn't tell anyone didn't mean that they didn't know something was wrong. It took just one morning for the national team to figure it out and start bringing him snacks and stretching appropriately, and a few days for Matsukawa and Hanamaki to start sending food to Iwaizumi's apartment. Iwaizumi had never been as good as Oikawa at hiding how he felt, but this, he thought, was a new record. It was so bad that everyone skipped the questioning and moved straight to feeding him; Iwaizumi's refrigerator was full of leftovers that he wished he'd had a dog to pass onto.

Iwaizumi actually could cook, so he didn't know why everyone's default was giving him food. Oikawa was the one who (probably still) couldn't cook.

He'd tried to keep himself as busy as he could, but Iwaizumi couldn't help his mind from wandering every now and then, finding himself lingering on that memory in the most masochistic fashion he'd ever found himself in. It seemed that with every passing incident, he was realizing that he hurt Oikawa more than he thought. Each time, he wondered what his new low would be and thought that the ladder of redemption to climb kept growing impossibly high.

"So that's why he punched you?" Matsukawa asked quietly.

"He just pushed me off at first," Iwaizumi sighed, shrugging weakly. "But then I followed him out and tried to stop him to apologize by grabbing his wrist and that's when he hit me."

Iwaizumi's brow pinched, knot forming in his chest. His body rounded on itself and he tightened his crossed arms, but the pressure didn't relieve the constriction behind his breastbone at all. "…I think I lost him for good this time," he said quietly and shook his head. "Fuck. I don't think I'm meant to date anyone. I'm somehow even worse as an ex than as a boyfriend."

It was quiet for several beats, and Iwaizumi couldn't help but think he'd finally messed up enough that even his two closest friends couldn't defend him. But then he heard Hanamaki give an exasperated sigh.

"Oh man. He's stupider than we thought," he said, looking at Matsukawa, who nodded gravely and Iwaizumi prickled immediately.

"Hey, jackasses—"

"Iwaizumi," Hanamaki interrupted and shook his head, "all right, where do I start… okay, so first of all, this isn't a representation of you being bad at dating. This is classic Oikawa—"

"Classic Oikawa is punching me?" Iwaizumi asked incredulously.

"Yes, when you're being this stupid. You used to be the smart one between you two, so you didn't know that. But we'll get to that later," Hanamaki explained patiently and Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed. "What you're being stupid about is that you seem to think you're not good at dating people. You were shit at dating Oikawa. But you were good with Himari."

Iwaizumi laughed caustically. "Yeah, if you told her that, she'd—"

"Clearly I can't speak for her," Hanamaki said, "but you weren't making the same mistake as you did when you were with Oikawa. You know how to show people you care about them, Iwaizumi. You definitely did with Himari, and in the end it didn't work out because not all relationships work out. Would've been great if you realized that and broke up with her earlier, but, well, nobody's perfect."

Iwaizumi frowned, shifting uncomfortably. He hadn't spent too much time comparing his relationships because, on one hand it felt unfair and somewhat disrespectful, and on the other, it made his heart ache. But when Hanamaki put it that way, he found himself reminiscing; the most romantic gesture he showed Oikawa was half-assed chocolates his friends forced him to make, whereas the most romantic gesture he showed Himari was tracking down her favorite band and asking them to serenade her for an anniversary dinner.

For Oikawa, someone he'd known for his entire life up until that point, he'd had to be told what to do. For Himari, someone he had known for just a few years by the time they dated, nobody even knew what he was doing until Himari told them afterwards. He remembered how stunned Hanamaki and Matsukawa had seemed and now understood why.

Somewhere along the way, Iwaizumi seemed to have figured out romantic gestures and if he thought about it, if he really did, he'd realize that it was because of years of being at Oikawa's side and looking at what he did.

_Fuck._

This was why he didn't compare his relationships.

But, he thought, if he had this treasure trove of romantic gestures all along, why did it take him so long? It couldn't have been because Oikawa said he didn't expect anything but Himari never made a proclamation like that, he thought. He'd done those things for Himari because he wanted to show her how much she'd meant to him. With Oikawa, he didn't need to go to those lengths, they were best friends, he knew—

_…Fuck._

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and audibly groaned.

 _This_ was why he didn't compare his relationships, he thought, wondering if his entire chest could fall to the floor with how heavy it felt.

Iwaizumi rubbed his face tiredly and tried to take a deep breath. "…He's my best friend," Iwaizumi mumbled weakly. "He knew I cared about him. He…"

"Aw, c'mon, Iwaizumi. Don't make excuses, you're not good at it."

"…"

"Sorry, maybe that was actually too mean," Hanamaki gave a sheepish smile and lolled his head to look at him. "I mean… yeah, Oikawa knew you cared about him, but think about how you showed Himari you cared when you were friends versus when you were dating. It's still different, right? I think with Oikawa, not only was it your first relationship, but this is the guy you've been with for literally your entire life. Old habits can be hard to change."

He shrugged and returned his gaze to his food. "Oikawa's good at dating. It's an established fact, and nobody expected you to be as good as he was given your lack of experience and general personality, but… you definitely could've tried harder. No offense, but I think you were too comfortable resting on the friendship you'd always had. Yeah, good relationships have a solid friendship, but it's nice to feel cared for. As a friend or boyfriend."

Iwaizumi had thrown the fact that Oikawa's relationships were short in his face during the argument that broke them up, but he hadn't ever discounted Oikawa's dating prowess. Even if his relationships were short, they had all been because of Oikawa's commitment to volleyball, not because he was bad at dating. He'd go all out on anniversaries and special events, often enlisting Iwaizumi's help in decorating, well, everywhere. He'd buy cute little trinkets that reminded him of whoever he was dating and the few times he showed Iwaizumi his good morning and good night texts, Iwaizumi almost gagged from how sickly sweet they were.

Oikawa was good at dating. He was good at showing people just how much he treasured them and making them feel special. Not only did he have a smile that made people feel like they were the only one who mattered, he made sure to show it with his actions and words too; for as annoying as he was, Oikawa loved hard and truly and wasn't shy about showing his affection.

"…He could've told me," Iwaizumi muttered after a brief pause. "He never has a problem pointing out when I'm doing something wrong, and if he was such an expert, he should've said something."

"He did," Matsukawa said quietly and Iwaizumi looked up with a start. Matsukawa shrugged and gave a small, good-natured smile. "Not directly, but he tried to. He's good at dating and he's good at being a jerk, but he's not good when it involves him being vulnerable about how he feels."

Iwaizumi dropped his gaze back to his food again, feeling his stomach turn. Oikawa, who had never shown much interest in cooking, had started doing so in secret, telling Iwaizumi only when he'd mastered his favorite dish and brought it to him. He'd always been attentive to reading Iwaizumi's silent moods, but when they started dating, Iwaizumi wouldn't even realize how he was feeling until Oikawa would be at his side, subtly lacing their fingers together if they were in public, asking _are you okay?_ and when Iwaizumi faltered, Oikawa would smile at him. _"Let's go home, yeah?"_

Oikawa's general behavior didn't change much; he was still annoying and dramatic, but when Iwaizumi thought back to it, he suddenly saw with startling clarity the small nuances that did change and maybe it was more of Oikawa allowing himself to indulge in those instincts rather than developing them. Maybe Iwaizumi's problem wasn't learning what to do to show Oikawa he cared, it was about allowing himself to do what he'd always been inclined to.

And the reason he wasn't instinctually doing those things was because he hadn't realized the potency of what he felt for the dumbass.

"You also always kept saying that you liked him," Hanamaki drawled and Iwaizumi tensed.

Iwaizumi glared at him. "So?! Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well, yeah," Hanamaki shrugged. "Just kind of hurts when the person you're in love with keeps reiterating they _like_ you."

"I—"

Iwaizumi felt the color drain from his cheeks and something icy prickle his skin. "He— _what_?"

"You didn't know?" Matsukawa asked and tilted his head. "…Seriously? You thought Oikawa ghosted me, Hanamaki, _and_ you over a crush?"

When Matsukawa put it that way, Iwaizumi felt horrendously idiotic.

"I—no," Iwaizumi cleared his throat. He stared at his palm and clenched his fist until his head stopped spinning. "…I mean, he's Oikawa. He's always that stupid, how was… why didn't he tell me?"

Iwaizumi wondered just how many more times he'd feel like the stupidest person in the world, because he was becoming uncomfortably familiar with the sensation. Now that they'd said it, it felt so obvious; he suddenly looked at the way Oikawa reacted during their fights and subsequent break-up in a new light and all the pieces of a puzzle he didn't know was incomplete fell together.

Iwaizumi inhaled sharply. "…Why didn't—if he told me, what if I figured out how I felt sooner, I—"

"The way you didn't realize how he felt, how was he supposed to realize how you could've felt?" Hanamaki drawled. "Come on, Iwaizumi. It was hard enough for him to pretend to be okay with hearing that you just liked him when he felt that strongly for you."

Iwaizumi licked his lips and looked up with a glare. "…Then why didn't you two tell me, if you knew?!"

"What good would it have done if we did?" Matsukawa asked and Iwaizumi dropped his gaze. "We didn't know either. So from our point of view, we thought that you couldn't make yourself feel something you don't. All it would've done would stress you out more, probably. Oikawa knew that—"

"He knew?" Iwaizumi echoed.

"Of course," Hanamaki replied, tilting his head. "He's Oikawa. This is what he does, he reads people. Because think about it, Iwaizumi. If he told you just how strongly he felt, you probably would've wanted to end it, right? Not in a cruel way, but because you're a good guy. You know that it's not fair to date someone who has such strong feelings when yours weren't at that level. You were inexperienced in dating, but your instincts would've told you that. And do you think Oikawa would've wanted to break up? Of course not. So, yeah, he knew and didn't tell you. If I were him, I'd hold out and hope you'd feel the same way, which isn't fair on you, but… I don't know. You love someone that bad, waiting an eternity doesn't seem that unbearable if you can do so by their side."

Iwaizumi was clenching his fist so tightly that he relaxed just before his nails were about to break skin and draw blood. Everything they said made sense; he couldn't be upset with Oikawa for not being honest and also expect him to read _and_ predict Iwaizumi's mind. They knew each other well, but it was never on either of them to keep the other honest; they were each their own responsibility. It had taken losing Oikawa for Iwaizumi to realize just how much he meant to him and knowing that Oikawa had always felt that way made him feel sick.

He sighed but it rattled his entire frame and he swore quietly, bringing the back of his hand to press to his forehead, feeling the creases from his knitted brow. "…Fucking idiot," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "He…"

"I think," Hanamaki continued mercilessly, "your part in the breakup is that even if you didn't know how you felt, you could've tried harder. Not saying it to kick dirt on you while you're digging your own grave, but I think you needed to finally realize that. And," he looked over and smirked lightly, "…looks like you do, now. It goes beyond just appreciating your best friend or realizing your feelings. It's both."

"Oikawa can stand a lot," Matsukawa continued softly, "but the two things he can't handle are blows to his pride and being unappreciated. I know you didn't mean to, but I think that's what happened."

Hanamaki nodded; he'd been eating yakisoba when he said _oh_ and Iwaizumi hardly cared as he watched a green onion fly out of Hanamaki's mouth and land on the carpet. "And also, the classic Oikawa comment… recognizing Oikawa's behavior as petulant and consistent with his personality isn't us excusing it. You messed up, but he has too, and I think now is a good time for both of you to start communicating and growing up."

Iwaizumi had been friends with Himari before they dated, but when they started seeing each other romantically, he would find himself doing things like bring her flowers or snacks, buy her small things that made her think of him when he wasn't with her. He'd ask her how her day was and be invested; he'd take time out of his to plan weekend trips with her, their schedules allowing.

He had thought that it was because he was doing most of these things already with Oikawa, so there wasn't anything else he could do, but that was ludicrous. There weren't a finite number of ways to show someone that they were loved and cared for. Even if he didn't realize the extent of his feelings, his friends were right; he could have done more, and he should have done more.

Guilt gnawed at him; Iwaizumi was biting his lip so hard that he soon tasted the metallic tang of blood and after lapping it up with his tongue, he had to fight the urge to do it again. As he kept repeating the words in his head, a coldness spread in his chest; each iteration imprinted the reality of what he'd done more and more into him and it was getting hard to breathe.

Iwaizumi didn't say anything for a while. He fidgeted with the chopsticks, rolling them between his fingers for several moments until he heaved another sigh, using his other hand to push his hair back, plate balanced in his lap. "… _Fuck_ ," he repeated. "Goddamnit. And now I can't even fucking apologize, because he doesn't want to see me."

"Eh, just give it some time," Hanamaki shrugged, bringing a bite of yakisoba to his mouth. "He's mad, yeah, but he's Oikawa and you're Iwaizumi. There's no universe where you two can't make up."

"He—"

"Besides, walking away from him is one of your biggest regrets, isn't it? You did it once, so I know you're not going to do it again. We all fuck up, but you, more than anyone, wouldn't make the same mistake twice, especially when it comes to Oikawa," Hanamaki said and Iwaizumi blinked. "Nobody can read him better than you can. You'll know when the right time to approach him is and how much to push to get him to listen. You both have to take a step forward. I don't care what he says, if you're stupid, he's being stupider, but you're both still idiots. It's honestly like watching the blind lead the blind sometimes, but—"

"Hanamaki, I'll fucking punch you."

"Just give him time," Matsukawa shrugged. "You're not the kind of person to give up, and he's not the kind of person to move on. It may not have worked out in high school, but you've both changed since then and still feel the same way."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "Seriously? Have you been completely ignoring the way he looks and talks about me?"

"Oikawa is like an oversized onion," Hanamaki explained. "Just peel back his layers."

Iwaizumi paused.

"…That's a horrible comparison and he would kill you for it."

Hanamaki smirked. "So go tell him about it, then."

* * *

_"Has Iwa-chan even been out on a proper date? Besides this one, I mean."_

_Iwaizumi bristled. "Sh-shut it—of course I have!"_

_"How many?"_

_Iwaizumi paused; he looked towards the ceiling as he started counting and flinched when he felt Oikawa flick his forehead. He growled, hand coming up to hold the spot and glare at him from across the table. "Hey!"_

_"You're supposed to say that it's been too many, but it doesn't matter, because this one feels like your first," Oikawa answered, wrinkling his nose. "Romance me, Iwa-chan."_

_"How am I supposed to romance an entire fucking series on legs?"_

_"Series on legs…? Oh, I am absolutely swept away right now."_

_Iwaizumi's cheeks were red, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back into the booth and sliding down with his shoulders rounded. He could feel Oikawa's eyes on him but couldn't bring himself to look back at him yet. He was used to being flustered about Oikawa; it so happened that Iwaizumi was easy to embarrass and Oikawa was good at embarrassing, but Oikawa had never embarrassed Iwaizumi about_ them _before._

_Since they started dating about two weeks ago, this was their first official date; they'd gone to one of their favorite dessert cafés. It was unfamiliar territory for them. Iwaizumi had thought it would be like any other time they'd been to the café, maybe with just more hand holding. But when they sat down, he couldn't help but wonder if Oikawa was expecting anything in particular; he found himself wracking his brain for what to do and how to act. He hated that he felt this pressure; Iwaizumi didn't like feeling like he had to live up to any standards when he was around Oikawa, but it was impossible to not think about that._

_They didn't talk about it, but it didn't need to be said: Oikawa had much more dating experience. Iwaizumi had been on dates, but he'd never been in a proper relationship, and he didn't know how he felt about his first official boyfriend being Seijoh's most popular bachelor._

_They'd walked over as they always did, meaning no hand holding, just brushing their arms occasionally. Oikawa had been quieter than normal, and usually Iwaizumi would appreciate the peace, but he'd asked if everything was okay because unlike every other time they'd gone to this café, this was technically a date. Iwaizumi had become hyperaware of that when they sat down, and he was thinking twice about everything he'd done, from choosing to sit across from Oikawa to his body language._

_Iwaizumi didn't think a lot would change when they started dating. They'd acted so close for their entire friendship that he didn't know what else he could do besides, but in terms of how they acted around each other, he didn't think it to be necessary to change his behavior. And yet, he was beyond nervous; he didn't want to disappoint Oikawa, but had no idea what he was doing, didn't want to broadcast his inexperience even more by announcing it. All he'd been able to do was ask Oikawa if he felt okay, he was a bit quiet. Oikawa had stared at him and shook his head, beamed and reassured him that everything was fine, he was just thinking about what he wanted to get._

_"Iwa-chan? …Did I upset you?"_

_The one thing that he did notice that changed was Oikawa's behavior. Oikawa, who was normally so brash and loud and shameless, had seemed to tone it down. He'd never been a stranger to physical affection, but Iwaizumi noticed that his personal space bubble had substantially increased, even though he expected the opposite. Oikawa would be hesitant and quieter; it was nice at first, but now it unnerved Iwaizumi slightly. If anything would change, he'd thought it would be Oikawa being annoyingly clingy; the fact that he wasn't made Iwaizumi even more worried._

_"No," he said and cleared his throat, finally looking at him and scowling lightly. "…Stop looking so concerned. It'll freak me out."_

_Oikawa stared at him for a few beats longer with his wide eyes and nodded, sitting back a bit. For the first time, Iwaizumi concentrated on something besides his own nerves, because he was focused on Oikawa. He was worrying his lip with his teeth and even his normally perfectly smooth brow was slightly furrowed. Iwaizumi jolted when he heard him speak and tore his gaze away from his lips just in time. "…Can I confess something to Iwa-chan?"_

_Iwaizumi couldn't help his frown, found himself sitting a little straighter in anticipation. "Yeah. Anything."_

_"…Dating Iwa-chan is nerve-wracking."_

_Iwaizumi stared at him silently and then frowned._

_"…Okay, now you're just making fun of me—"_

_"No, really," Oikawa said with a bashful smile Iwaizumi had never seen before. He shrugged and dropped his gaze again. "I mean, it's Iwa-chan. You're not just a cute guy I've been into, you're my best friend who I've known my whole life, and going from friends to dating… I'm scared I'm going to mess it up."_

_Iwaizumi's frown deepened and he leaned forward, straightening his shoulders. Reaching an arm across the table, he mumbled 'hey' and flicked Oikawa's forehead. He flinched and stared at him and Iwaizumi gave a tired smirk. "Don't be nervous. You're the one who has all the experience and if you're nervous, then that'll freak me out. We're friends, first and foremost, yeah? Best friends. If anything, I don't know what kind of expectations you have, so I don't know if I'm going to meet them."_

_Oikawa stared at him incredulously for such a long time that Iwaizumi faltered, asked what he'd done wrong now._

_"…Iwa-chan, you are the expectation," Oikawa said slowly, tilting his head. "You're the person who I've been looking for in everyone I've dated because you've always been the one I've wanted to date."_

_Iwaizumi had always known that Oikawa was good with romance; while he himself never thought he'd care to hear any of it, there were times where he would be forced to hide in a closet because decorating took too long, and he'd end up being privy to Oikawa's speeches to whoever Iwaizumi had just gone through twenty rolls of streamers for._

_He didn't even know if Oikawa had intended on eliciting a certain reaction from him, but that's what he got. Iwaizumi faltered and then his entire face turned red; surprisingly, his reaction seemed to fluster Oikawa too, because then his face also turned pink. "I-I mean—"_

_"Th-that wasn't supposed to put pressure on me?"_

_"I-I was telling you that I like you despite who you are-!"_

_"D-despite?! Shittykawa, don't make me hit you—"_

_"I-I'm just s-saying," Oikawa stammered, dropping his gaze, "Iwa-chan… Iwa-chan doesn't need to be nervous. I don't care if you don't know what to do. Just… be yourself. It's why I l-like you. Okay?"_

_Iwaizumi held his gaze and finally sighed, licking his lips. "…Just be myself? Just how I've always been?"_

_Oikawa smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'm not expecting Prince Charming. That's just unrealistic for Iwa-chan."_

_"…I'm going to hit you," Iwaizumi mumbled, but smiled for the first time that afternoon._

_Similarly, Oikawa beamed for the first time._

* * *

"You've… you've been mad for a week straight. I'm starting to get worried."

"I'm fine."

Oikawa stabbed at his bowl so hard that the chopsticks splintered. He stared at them and then looked up sharply; Kenma didn't react, but Kuroo flinched and drew back.

"These are cheap, wooden chopsticks," Oikawa snapped. "Takeout chopsticks are the worst."

Kuroo cleared his throat. "Actually, those are ours—"

"Why are you using takeout chopsticks as your real ones?" he asked immediately and as Kuroo jolted again, Kenma just sighed and kept eating silently.

"What? No, I'm saying they aren't—"

"Then you need better chopsticks."

"Why are you being so aggressive about our chopsticks?!"

Oikawa chucked the chopsticks into the nearby trash can and stood so suddenly that his chair fell over behind him. Kenma glared slightly, his first emotion besides annoyance, and Oikawa felt a surge of guilt through his body. He was a guest at Kuroo and Kenma's, but, in his weak defense, he hadn't intended to be; Kuroo showed up at work and dragged him over for dinner without much of a choice. Oikawa had tried to protest but he was exhausted from work and decided to just give in, thinking that all he had to do was survive a two-hour dinner.

Almost three weeks had passed since the bar and whoever said time healed everything had never felt the very specific combination of feelings swirling in Oikawa's chest; time didn't make anything better, it seemed to only rot what was already inside him and Oikawa spent every day ready to throw up at any given moment.

He strode across their living room and opened the balcony door, the soft close feature saving a likely expensive repair bill. Oikawa was shaking as he grasped the railing and stared out at the high floor view that he could only assume was possible because of Kenma's salary. Inhaling but feeling only half of his lung capacity fill, Oikawa twined his fingers together, resting his forearms against the metal instead. He took a step back so that he could bend at the waist, lightly press his forehead against his hands when he heard the balcony door slide open, someone stepping out. Whether it was Kuroo or Kenma, an apology caught in his throat; he couldn't seem to voice it and didn't trust what words would come out if he tried to speak. He felt bad, but he also felt angry, and when it had anything to do with Iwaizumi, anger always won out.

"Yeah, you really weren't kidding when you said you just wanted to go home."

It was Kuroo, which was unfortunate, because Oikawa had a higher chance of controlling himself with Kenma.

Oikawa didn't say anything.

Sakusa's physical therapy had ended. Expectedly, Iwaizumi didn't show up and Oikawa had made it through the entire session without asking about him. Oikawa didn't let it show that he was annoyed at how Sakusa chose now to be tightlipped about Iwaizumi and was careful with his answers because even if Oikawa liked him, Sakusa was first and foremost Iwaizumi's friend. If he were to choose sides, he'd undoubtedly choose Iwaizumi's.

However, if Sakusa was tightlipped about Iwaizumi, Atsumu was a different story.

_"So how'm I doin'? Better?"_

_"Yes," Oikawa answered, flashing a practiced smile. As Atsumu continued to improve with every session, his energy continued to pick up, which kept grating at Oikawa. For a while, he had been able to stifle his own emotions, but after his last falling out with Iwaizumi, it was hard for him to keep them in check; he wasn't sure if Atsumu was picking up on it, now that he seemed to be in the full swing of focusing on his recovery, but Oikawa couldn't help himself. He kept his words and actions purely professional, but couldn't help the way his eyes would reflexively narrow or the way his fist would clench._

_It wasn't fair and it wasn't Atsumu's fault, he knew, but his heart had never been able to prioritize logic over emotion._

_"Be sure to not overexert yourself," he said, clearing his throat and swallowing both the lump in his throat and rising jealousy. "You won't be speeding up your recovery, you'll just slow it."_

_"Yeah, yeah, doc."_

_Oikawa heard tapping and glanced up from his notes to see Atsumu on his phone. He didn't have to wonder who he was texting; tearing his gaze away before he could see, he just hummed when Atsumu asked if he could ask Iwaizumi to start accompanying him. Oikawa wondered if Atsumu was still estranged from the rest of the team; he seemed to have returned to his normal personality, but he couldn't be that brash and clueless if he knew about Iwaizumi or Oikawa._

_Or, Oikawa thought dryly, he was being unprofessional and immature by thinking his patient would prioritize his personal relationship over his recovery._

_"That's fine," he answered, managing to keep his voice even. Atsumu grinned and went back to his phone; Oikawa took the time to start cleaning up the room and rearranging for the next patient of the day. "Hey," he heard and stopped to look over his shoulder. "Shoyo-kun asked—"_

_Oikawa twitched._

_"Well," Atsumu frowned, "he asked me t'keep it a secret, but what's up with you and Iwaizumi-san?"_

_"You're betraying Shoyo-kun's confidence?" Oikawa asked delicately._

_"I mean… there's no secret to tell, so not really, y'know."_

_Oikawa hummed and didn't turn around to face him. "There's nothing to tell. Ask Iwaizumi if you want to know."_

_"He won't tell."_

_"I'm under no obligation to tell you either."_

_"We're pals, aren't we?!"_

_"No."_

_Atsumu was staring at him and under normal circumstances, Oikawa would talk his way out of the next confrontation, but something about Atsumu made Oikawa want to fight. He didn't let the annoyance dancing in his eyes reflect as a frown on his lips; instead, he finally turned to be able to look at him and opted to lean against the wall, holding his gaze. "Yes?"_

_"…It's killin' you, isn't it? Helpin' me?"_

_"I think we've established quite well how I'm feeling," Oikawa answered smoothly. "Besides, Tsumu-chan, you get a pass for a while. I have other concerns."_

_Atsumu nodded sagely. "Iwaizumi-san, huh?"_

_Oikawa decided he really didn't like Atsumu._

"So, I still don't know you super well on a personal level because, frankly, you don't tell me anything," he heard and bit his tongue to keep from snapping back. Opening his eyes, Oikawa could just barely catch sight of Kuroo's kitty slippers in his peripheral vision. "And that makes it hard for me to try and give you unsolicited advice when I'm not entirely sure what the issue is, but I'm going to try anyway."

Oikawa took a deep breath to try and keep himself calm.

"The keyword here has been _unsolicited._ "

"You keep everything to yourself," Kuroo continued easily. "But… it seems like you're expecting other people to read your mind, which isn't fair."

Oikawa flinched; the tips of his fingers pressed harshly against the opposite knuckles for a few moments before he forced himself to relax. He'd always wondered if Kuroo was lucky or perceptive; Oikawa wasn't exactly someone easy to read, but, he supposed, when he was this upset, it didn't take someone with Iwaizumi's familiarity to be able to read him.

"That's a bold statement," he answered with a breathy laugh. "Where's your evidence?"

"You don't say anything, but you also don't bother to try and deal with your feelings," Kuroo said without hesitating and Oikawa's eyes narrowed. "It's pretty obvious you're waiting for Iwaizumi to come and apologize, but with the way you're acting… you really think he will? You can't expect him to know what you want when you're acting this way."

"Who says I'm not dealing with my emotions?" Oikawa grumbled.

Oikawa had a feeling that the sound Kuroo produced was a laugh, but it sounded more like a hyena's howl. "…You're kidding, right?"

Oikawa didn't answer that rebuttal; he'd known it was a futile response even before he said it. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Oikawa exhaled through his nose and hated that Kuroo had hit the nail on the head, driving it deeper into his chest.

Oikawa knew how his actions and words could be and would be perceived to anyone, but Iwaizumi wasn't just _anyone_. Even now, he wasn't anyone, and Oikawa was growing frustrated because he'd thought that he was to Iwaizumi as Iwaizumi was to him: someone who would always know what he wanted and, if reasonable, give it to him.

As soon as that thought formulated and verbalized in his head, Oikawa realized how selfish it sounded.

"He's in the wrong," was all that Oikawa could manage. The tips of his fingers pressed into the indents between his knuckles and he exhaled heavily again, lifting his head and staring at the horizon. Oikawa had always liked their view; their balcony was south facing, and so he was never met with blinding sunlight at either sunrise or sunset. It was close enough to downtown for convenience, but far enough where it could still be peaceful and feel like they had some space in densely populated Tokyo. "He… knows me. It's obvious. The fact that he's not doing it, means—"

Kuroo hummed. He rested his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to one leg. "Is it actually that obvious or is that just what you think? Again, you tell me nothing, so I genuinely don't know. I can hazard a guess, but you don't seem to like that, especially when I guess right."

Inhaling through his nose, Oikawa licked his lips. He declined to answer the question on hand. It took him a few more moments of fidgeting but he finally sighed, this time until almost all the air had left his lungs and when he breathed in next, he cleared his throat. "…Iwaizumi hasn't been coming to the hospital," he said instead, voice quiet and low.

Kuroo nodded.

"…You are supplying information, so thank you, but I'm going to need some context. Correct me if I'm wrong, but he doesn't work there, so that shouldn't be unreasonable."

"He used to come with Sakusa-san," Oikawa continued and Kuroo formed an 'o' with his mouth. "He doesn't anymore, since… the bar."

Kuroo nodded. "The bar where… something happened."

"He kissed me," Oikawa said in a low voice and brought a hand up to his face, right after he could see Kuroo look at him, seeming genuinely surprised. "…I kissed him back."

"…Right. So then…"

"I hit him," Oikawa mumbled, rubbing his face tiredly, "and said that if I could either play volleyball again or forget him, I'd forget him."

"…Oh."

Oikawa never thought he'd actually catch Kuroo Tetsurou off-guard and found it a shame that due to the context, it wasn't as satisfying as he would have hoped.

"That's…"

Kuroo hesitated.

"Do you really mean that?"

Oikawa didn't even have to think about his answer because he'd said what he said out of anger, but when it came to how he honestly, truly felt, there was no doubt in his mind what his choice would be. "No," he said in a voice that was quieter still. "No, of course not. I was just lashing out because he…"

Trailing off, Oikawa took a step back and bowed his head again; he was bent at the waist at almost 90 degrees in this position, forehead nearly touching the railing.

"Of course I didn't mean it," he said in a strained voice. "But when he kissed me, when the last time we saw each other we were literally fighting, it felt like he was just jerking me around. One night he's punching me and giving me a black eye, and the next he's kissing me like we're in high school? It was like whiplash and now, he's avoiding me? This is exactly what he did in high school; we break up, he texts once, and then he never reaches out again. He just leaves—"

"Did you answer that text?" Kuroo interrupted.

Oikawa inhaled sharply and pressed his lips together into a thin line, swallowing thickly. He _really_ hated Kuroo sometimes, he thought. "…No," he admitted, "but—"

"So you're mad at him for not reaching out, after you ignored his attempt _to_ reach out?"

Oikawa flinched.

"It's not that simple—"

"Then explain it," Kuroo asked. "Because the way I see it is that you're complaining about Iwaizumi not reaching out when you're the one who's always pushing him away. And I know, I know, he was your best friend, he knows you, he should be able to see past that and keep trying to reach you. But you two broke up and as mature and calm he is, he needed time to grieve too, right? And then when he does reach out, you ignore him. I gotta say, I can't completely blame him for not trying again. And with what you said to him—"

"I get it," Oikawa said quietly. "…You can stop."

"Yeah, but I'm having fun now," Kuroo said in an easy voice. "What's that saying, you can't keep biting the hand that's feeding you? You can't keep pushing someone away and expect them to run back immediately every time, Oikawa. It's not fair to them; he's hurting too and he's got his limits. It doesn't matter if maybe he is your soulmate; if you treat someone badly, even if the universe meant for you two to be together, he's got a right to walk away. Besides, if you were him, would you really keep showing up in front of someone you cared for, unsure of if they still wanted you or if they'd tell you to go fuck yourself?"

Digging his nails into his flesh, Oikawa stared at the ground and swallowed. "…But that doesn't make up for why he kissed me—"

"Well, you two were drunk, right?"

Oikawa hesitated and this time he looked up with a harsh glare. "That doesn't excuse—"

"No, no, I'm not trying to excuse anything he did. You're too close and hurt by this to be able to consider things from his point of view, so that's what I'm doing, okay?" Kuroo clarified and Oikawa nodded, returning his gaze to the ground as Kuroo kept talking. "I'm not saying at all that because you two were drunk, it makes anything okay."

Oikawa nodded stiffly. "…Okay."

"So you two were both drunk," Kuroo said in a gentler voice, "and then he kissed you. With the history you had, I think it can be safe to assume that he still has feelings for you. I don't think he was trying to hurt you at all, I think… he just lost himself in the moment. He doesn't hate you. Not even close. We do a lot of things when we're drunk, but I've always thought that we can be the most honest then too.

"I don't think Iwaizumi has some vendetta out against you, where he's trying to keep making sure you're hurting from that break-up. And after what you said… well, if someone I loved said that to me, I'd stay away because the last thing I want to do to them is to hurt them."

An undercurrent of nausea rippled through Oikawa's body, and he took a moment to gather himself and quell his nerves. The thought that Iwaizumi still had pure, genuine feelings for him never crossed his mind; even in high school, Oikawa didn't think Iwaizumi felt even a quarter of what he felt. Being hung up on a breakup and having genuine feelings were different things; it was the difference between the nostalgia for something familiar and the courage to risk everything for an uncertain future.

"…He doesn't," he said in a small voice. "He doesn't feel that way about me anymore… I don't think he ever felt—"

"Oikawa, I know you're not a stupid guy," Kuroo said quietly. "…You have to be able to tell that he still feels some way about you and I think it's got to be stronger than what he was feeling in high school if now, ten years later when your relationship is this bad that he still wants to kiss you. Look, I don't even know him well, and I can tell, just from the short exchanges we have. He reacts whenever anyone even so much as mentions your name, and you don't act that way about someone you don't have feelings for."

Oikawa's hands were trembling again and he clasped them together in an effort to stop. Inhaling sharply, he pushed himself up to be able to look out at the view again and when he heard Kuroo ask, "Now can I ask something?" he gave a short nod.

Kuroo paused and Oikawa closed his eyes, because he swore he could hear him ask his question even before he breathed it past his vocal chords.

"Isn't it exhausting to keep acting like you hate him?"

Oikawa watched a stoplight turn from green, to yellow, then to red, watched the pedestrian light flicker from red to white. He watched a woman walk her dog and a few kids racing each other home, narrowly avoiding a weary high schooler on his bike. He watched the driver in one car sitting perfectly still, hands at ten and two, and then the driver in another jabbering animatedly, waving her hand about.

He watched a flock of birds fly across the sky, a couple of crows perched on a telephone line, a stray flyer dance across the sidewalk. He watched a streetlamp start flickering as the light in someone's apartment turned on. He watched a shadow move about and another curtain close.

He watched the world until he felt grounded again, finally allowing himself to breathe because as heavy as honesty could be, lying was more so.

"…Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up pals!!!! disappeared for a hot sec but we're back and ready to rumble. full disclosure i spent the entire last week drafting another fic and before i knew it... i forgot to update this one rip but oikawa's finally gotten his breakthrough (?) and next chapter... i think next chapter will be :) a good one
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments highly appreciated and motivating ♡


	12. heartbeat on the high line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because now, as they sat in a nearly empty café and looked at each other over a cold basket of fries, oikawa had only a universe of adoration in his heart for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter clocks in at just under 14k words. i'm so sorry to my beta. i'm so sorry to everyone. turns out i have a lot to say about iwaoi.

_Oikawa watched the way Iwaizumi slammed the kitchen cupboards as he retrieved a couple of plates, flinching at the metal forks scraping against the ceramic. He crossed his arms and took a deep breath; the noise had always elicited a negative reaction from him and Iwaizumi absolutely knew that, but Oikawa decided to be kind and give him the benefit of the doubt._

_It happened again and Oikawa's second flinch was harder, coupled with a growing annoyance. He stretched his fingers out, fanned them over his upper arms and glared, exhaling slowly through his nose. He could discount the first time as a coincidence, but not the second._

_"Just say what you're thinking instead of taking your anger out on my plates."_

_Iwaizumi's dark eyes flit up immediately, briefly showing his side profile and brow that was set in a deep scowl. "Fuck off, Oikawa," he snapped. "You're the one who gripes if I leave any food. Funny, because you'll waste a ton when we go out to eat."_

_"It sounds like you've never heard of the concept of take-out, Iwaizumi," Oikawa answered snidely, making sure to enunciate every syllable of Iwaizumi's name tauntingly. He could see the reaction manifest even from the back; Iwaizumi's muscles visibly tensed beneath his shirt and Oikawa couldn't help the small satisfaction tickling his chest._

_Despite what he'd say, Oikawa knew Iwaizumi much preferred being called by the nickname that only Oikawa would ever call him. Iwaizumi had always been 'Iwa-chan' to him. The nickname had been the very first way Oikawa ever addressed Iwaizumi; they'd played together as babies and once they could start talking, one of Oikawa's first words was the nickname. Their mothers had cooed. Iwaizumi had stared. Oikawa had beamed._

_Iwaizumi was always Iwa-chan, and the only time he wasn't was when Oikawa was truly, genuinely, vehemently mad. Mad in a way where usually Iwaizumi would apologize. Mad in a way where Iwaizumi was usually in the wrong. Mad in a way to shed an entire childhood of affection. Mad in a way that could crush diamonds._

_Oikawa loved Iwaizumi more than he thought he could ever love anything, but love didn't override everything, especially not when he felt like he wasn't being respected or taken seriously. A part of him believed in the innate goodness of Iwaizumi and knew that he was someone who would never purposely make him feel this way. Then there was the other part of him that was controlled by his heart, and he felt so constantly inundated by hurt that he wondered how Iwaizumi didn't know he was causing this. There were plenty of instances where Oikawa couldn't quite find the words to express himself, but that had never stopped Iwaizumi from figuring it out and fixing it before._

_Usually when Oikawa would call him by his family name, Iwaizumi would falter, grow quiet, and apologize. In half the cases, that would be enough for Oikawa to forgive him. In about forty nine percent of other cases, it was enough to start an honest conversation._

_This was the one percent where Iwaizumi was just as mad at him._

_Oikawa didn't flinch at the sound of the plate shattering. Iwaizumi swore; Oikawa watched impassively as he started picking up the pieces out of the sink and throwing them into the nearby trash. Normally, Oikawa would say don't worry about it, it's fine, they have more plates. But this wasn't a normal conversation between them, so Oikawa crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He tilted his head upwards, gazed down his nose at Iwaizumi. "See, you're not stupid."_

_Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. "What?"_

_Oikawa tilted his head. "You clearly know how to be responsible and fix everything_ except _for our relationship."_

_"Christ, Oikawa…"_

_Oikawa felt a little bad when he saw Iwaizumi accidentally cut his hand on the last piece; he swore again and turned on the faucet, letting the water run over his palm, immediately staining red with blood. "This, again?" Iwaizumi asked tiredly, kept his eyes on his hand. "Can you do me a favor and at least tell me what we're arguing about? We keep fighting about the same thing and I don't even—"_

_"The fact that you still don't know is partly why we fight about it," Oikawa snapped, walking over to a drawer. He pulled out a first aid kit and slid it silently across the counter; Iwaizumi caught it with his free hand, not even needing to glance down at it._

_Despite them fighting, Oikawa couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride at how well they could wordlessly communicate._

_"So then explain it to me," Iwaizumi bit out. Oikawa watched him struggle to open the box with one hand; the cut on his hand was bigger than he thought, based on how much blood there still was, and Oikawa didn't stop his natural reflex to frown. He stepped forward and wordlessly opened the box, purposely not saying anything to piss him off more until he was finished cleaning the wound and wrapping his hand with a bandage. Normally, Oikawa would then take Iwaizumi's hand and press a light kiss to his palm with a coy smile. Normally, Iwaizumi would blush and call him stupid._

_But, again, this wasn't how they normally were._

_"If I have to explain it to you—"_

_"You're saying that we keep fighting about this because I don't know what we're fighting about, but maybe we keep fighting over something you made up in your head," Iwaizumi retorted and Oikawa's expression darkened._

_"So it's my fault?" he bristled, dropping Iwaizumi's hand and stepping back. "I'm_ imagining _it? Right, it must be like how I imagined that we're dating—"_

_"We are dating!" Iwaizumi yelled, bringing his good hand to his face with a groan. "Fuck, Oikawa, I knew you were jealous and possessive, but—"_

_Oikawa nearly balked. "You think I'm just being jealous and possessive?"_

_"What else is it?" Iwaizumi dropped his hand to glare at him. "You're always saying how I seem to enjoy spending time more with Hanamaki and Matsukawa and blowing up my phone when I'm hanging out with someone besides you three! What am I supposed to do, Oikawa?! I already spend almost all my free time with you!"_

_"This isn't about me being_ jealous _," Oikawa seethed, clenching his fists. "It's the fact that you're not acting like we're dating! Barely anything has changed from when we were friends—"_

_"You said you were fine with that!"_

_Oikawa inhaled sharply. "You know, Iwaizumi, maybe we keep fighting about this because you're always interrupting me."_

_"I interrupt you because you're wrong and I don't need to hear more of your bullshit," Iwaizumi returned, good hand grasping the counter and elevating his other by his shoulder. "Oikawa, you yourself told me to not change who I am. To not force anything. Look, if you want cheesy shit, tell me—"_

_"Do you think," Oikawa interrupted, voice growing tighter, "that I want you to have to force yourself to do those things? I know it's not in your personality—"_

_"So it's not in my personality to be a good boyfriend?!"_

_"I'm not—"_

_"That's what you're saying, isn't it?" Iwaizumi asked sharply and Oikawa's fingers twitched, scowl deepening. Something flashed in his vision and he took a deep breath, but it did little to calm the growing heat in his chest. "I'm shit at being a boyfriend? What, so because I don't get you flowers or make you mixtapes, I don't care? That gives you the right to be passive aggressive?!"_

_"I'm not asking for flowers and mixtapes, I'm asking for you to act like you care!" Oikawa said, voice rising. Despite how often they'd been fighting recently, Oikawa still rarely yelled; he saw Iwaizumi falter for the first time that afternoon, but the surprise was quickly replaced with a standard glare. He could see the way his jaw was clenching from the way he gritted his teeth; Oikawa's fingers were digging into his arms but he was afraid that if he loosened them, he'd end up punching a wall out of frustration._

_"We're risking our friendship for this," he continued and could feel his arms trembling. "It's—you kissed me, Iwaizumi, so I thought that meant you felt more for me than just something platonic, but it's like nothing changed! So then why would you do that? Why would you kiss me and imply you wanted something more and risk what we already have—"_

_"You're so fucking overdramatic, Oikawa," Iwaizumi retorted. "What do you want from me? This is a high school relationship," he spat and Oikawa could see the regret light his features immediately. "It's—"_

_It didn't matter what he was going to say after that; Oikawa felt as if his heart had been dipped in ice water and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Iwaizumi took one look at his expression and dropped his gaze guiltily, but that didn't make him feel any better. "…Fuck, that came out wrong—"_

_"'This is a high school relationship'?" Oikawa echoed, heart pounding in his chest. He licked his lips, but they were immediately dry again and his throat felt parched, blood rushing to his head and leaving him feeling dizzy. "…What, you already think this is going to end?"_

_Iwaizumi groaned; he was shaking his head but Oikawa couldn't focus on anything. Even looking at Iwaizumi, all he could think about was what he'd just said and the implications because nobody said "this is just a high school relationship" to follow up with "this is a serious commitment that we've made to each other." "This is just a high school relationship" was just another way of saying "this is a fling, this is nothing serious, this is just for fun."_

_Oikawa felt nauseous._

_" And then what?" he continued. "We go back to how we were? You can't possibly be that naïve—if this is just a high school relationship to you, then why would you—"_

_"Because I like you!" Iwaizumi yelled. "Isn't that enough?! Two people liking each other—"_

_"I don't just_ —"

_"Apparently it's not enough, because nothing is fucking enough for you, Oikawa!" Iwaizumi interrupted. His clenched fist hit the wall and Oikawa didn't even flinch; his gaze didn't even flicker. "You say that I don't have to say stuff until I'm ready, and now, what, you're upset that I can't fucking wax poetry the way you do?! I'm just not good enough? Have you ever considered that you're the problem? Yeah, maybe this relationship doesn't have as much passion as your two-week one—so then why did it last only two weeks?!"_

_"Because I don't date people and then break up with them because of time, so what's that supposed to matter?! I date them and we break up because it's not meant to be—you're different from anyone I've ever dated, because I lo—"_

_Iwaizumi pushed off the counter and Oikawa cut off; he didn't move because he knew Iwaizumi wasn't going to hit him—he wasnt't the type to be the first to throw a punch unless seriously provoked—and Oikawa didn't move as he brushed past him. "Fuck this, I'm going home."_

_"So you're walking out again?" Oikawa asked, turning to watch him grab his backpack. "Just like that? Is this going to be like all the other fights? We don't talk for a few days, you get me milk bread, we're okay for a few hours, then you start acting like an uncaring asshole—"_

_"Uncaring, are you serious?!" Iwaizumi snapped, whirling around. "Oikawa, you're my best friend—I care more about you than anyone—"_

_"Yeah, but I'm just your friend, right?! You only like me—"_

_"And why the fuck isn't that enough?! What do you want, for me to be in love with you?"_

_"Why are you saying that like it's such a pain for you to even consider that?!" Oikawa immediately returned; the anger spiking in his chest was the absolutely only reason his eyes were dry, but that didn't stop his voice from wavering. "If that's what you think, then fuck off, Iwaizumi, let's just end this before college even starts!"_

_The words flew out of Oikawa's mouth before he could reconsider them, but once they were suspended in the air, he found that he didn't regret them. Inhaling sharply, he looked away because he couldn't keep looking at Iwaizumi; his anger was sharp and intense but short lived and once it gave way, he was afraid that looking at Iwaizumi would make him start crying. He wasn't embarrassed to cry in front of Iwaizumi, but he knew that if he cried, Iwaizumi would hold him, and if he was in Iwaizumi's arms, he'd forget everything else, and this would just happen again, and again, and again._

_And again._

_And again._

_And they'd get nowhere and nothing would change and he would always be in love with someone who just had a crush on him._

_"…What?" Iwaizumi asked finally, sounding dumbfounded. "You… you're breaking up with me?"_

_"Why the hell not?" Oikawa snapped, still not looking at him, mentally begging for Iwaizumi to fight back. If he fought back, that would mean he cared, Oikawa thought, and that's all he needed, he just needed to know Iwaizumi cared and wanted this. He'd push him away with everything he had and if Iwaizumi could see past all that and stayed anyway, that would be the sign Oikawa needed to know that this relationship at this time was the right thing. "You don't care about this relationship and you clearly hate it—so leave, Iwaizumi. You're free of me."_

_"You… don't want this?" Iwaizumi asked and his voice was so quiet, so brittle that it almost broke Oikawa._

_He inhaled and dug his nails into his arms, swallowed thickly. His shoulders rounded and he wished that he could disappear entirely._

_"…No," he said. "No, I don't, Iwaizumi. I don't want this."_

_He didn't want a relationship where he didn't know if Iwaizumi truly wanted him the same way Oikawa wanted him, but he wanted Iwaizumi. He didn't want to constantly be fighting, but he wanted Iwaizumi in his life. He didn't want what they had become, but he wanted what he had always thought they could be._

_Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn't stop the tear that rolled down his cheek and bowed his head too late, knew that Iwaizumi saw it._

_Stay, he was thinking. Stay, please stay, please don't leave._

_Stay, despite how hard he'd pushed; read my mind, he was thinking, look past everything and know exactly what I'm thinking._

_He felt a cool rush of wind and when the door slammed shut, Oikawa sank down to the floor and cried._

* * *

Iwaizumi hated dating.

Matsukawa kept bringing it up and his persistence eventually led to Iwaizumi's acquiescence. Matsukawa, to his credit, was very forthcoming and upfront with his intentions this time. He even went so far as to set up a video call to prove to Iwaizumi that he wasn't setting him up with Oikawa, just a coworker of his. Iwaizumi had answered during practice and he realized it was the first time he'd seen Matsukawa at work; he didn't know what to expect and found it both surprising and lackluster at the same time.

Matsukawa had momentarily panned it to someone in the background who looked their age and Iwaizumi dryly noted that he indeed was telling the truth about setting him up with someone who wasn't Oikawa.

_"A coworker? So someone else who works with you at the funeral home?"_

_"Don't judge, he's a nice guy."_

Iwaizumi had accepted just one date after making Matsukawa promise that it was just _one_ date, that whether or not there was another was entirely up to him and Matsukawa's head bobbed like a bouncing rubber ball. Iwaizumi asked his coworker to coffee; it was something that he wanted most days anyway and would only take an hour or two.

Unbeknownst to Matsukawa, his stubbornness wasn't the only factor in Iwaizumi's eventual consent. The day he finally agreed was the same day (and, truthfully, a few minutes after) that he received a text from Atsumu, asking for him to start attending his physical therapy sessions. Iwaizumi's stomach instantly lurched; even though he knew he would say yes, he still had to take a moment to calm his nerves at the idea of having to see Oikawa again.

The very same day Sakusa had finished his physical therapy, he immediately went to the gym and showed him a note from Oikawa to prove that he could play. Iwaizumi was silent a moment too long, focused on Oikawa's lazy yet elegant scrawl of a signature, and jerked back to reality to nod when Sakusa asked if he was all right. Oikawa wrote in pen, so he couldn't tell based on the intensity of the ink color, but he hadn't been writing hard enough to rip paper despite knowing this was a note for Iwaizumi; that had to be a good sign, he thought.

Iwaizumi then realized he was way overthinking it.

_"Yeah, go," Iwaizumi said, taking the note and slipping it into his pocket. "Just don't be stupid and overexert yourself again."_

Sakusa had lingered; at the beginning, Iwaizumi could tell he had no interest, but over time, even he had eventually started showing signs of curiosity. The way he didn't immediately go back onto the court was the most obvious sign of all and Iwaizumi glared at him. Sakusa nodded; he turned and started to walk away, but this time Iwaizumi was the one to stop him, with a murmured 'hey.' Sakusa immediately stopped and turned to face him.

_"…Is he okay?"_

_Sakusa blinked and cleared his throat. "He's… ah, well, he's not your biggest fan—"_

_"No, I know that," Iwaizumi shook his head and regarded him tiredly. "Just in general. Is he holding up okay?"_

_The way Sakusa dropped his gaze told Iwaizumi everything he needed to know and he couldn't help but swear, bringing a hand up to his face. When he heard Sakusa say his name softly, he grunted to show he was listening._

_"…I think he'd feel better if he saw how much you cared."_

_Iwaizumi scoffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned._

_"Normally I'd agree because he's a smug bastard, but this time… I think I need to stay away."_

Atsumu had kept him up to date on his status through texts. Iwaizumi worried for him; he also worried for Oikawa and couldn't imagine how difficult it was to treat Atsumu. Each text from Atsumu left Iwaizumi anxious for one or both of them for at least an hour afterwards because not only was there Atsumu's knee and Oikawa's emotional state to be concerned about, there was the fact they were both going through things and had horribly incompatible personalities. He'd even taken a ball to the chest once at practice because he was so busy wondering about Oikawa that he hadn't seen the ball hurtling toward him.

He considered himself lucky that Bokuto had been playing around casually.

Iwaizumi eventually casually asked Atsumu how Oikawa was doing. Atsumu didn't ask him why he cared; he'd just started ranting about Oikawa and Iwaizumi tried to glean as much as he could from what Atsumu told him. He knew that Atsumu likely knew they had a history; he was on the national team and they were as close as family. If even Ushijima was kept apprised, then Atsumu was as well, whether or not he had an active part in the plotting.

However, Iwaizumi appreciated that Atsumu was more subtle about the team's meddling (or he just didn't care because he clearly had bigger issues to be concerned with). Atsumu replied that Oikawa would sometimes take jabs and Iwaizumi was relieved that Oikawa would actually mention him; if he really, truly, wholly wanted Iwaizumi out of his life, Oikawa could and would just entirely erase him from his mind. Atsumu then reassured Iwaizumi that he'd defended him. Iwaizumi snapped that he didn't ask him to do that.

Iwaizumi's relief was short-lived because Atsumu then mentioned that he could definitely tell Oikawa had a hard time treating him. When Iwaizumi asked if it was because of his personality, Atsumu had sent an angry emoji, then a text saying that, no, it was because it was the same injury.

Oikawa was good at hiding how he felt; even considering how detail oriented Atsumu was, for him to see it so clearly gave Iwaizumi a bad feeling, left him thinking that Oikawa's emotional turmoil must have been worse than he even thought. Oikawa wasn't the type of person to quietly process things, only shove and repress them into the tiniest corners of his mind and ignore them until they were all that he could think about. Iwaizumi would normally think Oikawa would be able to control his temper when it came to work, but this wasn't just any petty matter and, also, Atsumu was honestly pretty infuriating at times.

He knew that Oikawa wasn't okay right now; on top of that, there was the additional emotional stress that Iwaizumi had caused. Iwaizumi had let him go once; the idea of being the catalyst for the second departure left his knees weak and this time, if Oikawa tried to disappear, Iwaizumi would follow him until the world ended, whether or not Oikawa wanted him to or not.

The thing with Oikawa was that he wasn't _always_ ready for someone to follow him, but he _was_ the kind of person who would want someone to follow him. There were people who said that Oikawa _needed_ someone and Iwaizumi would always defend him; he didn't need anyone, he'd say, Oikawa was incredibly strong on his own and there was nothing wrong with not wanting to be alone for hardships.

The thought of seeing Oikawa stole Iwaizumi's breath away in the worst way possible because he wanted to see him so badly and it took everything to stay away. Iwaizumi used to be good at discerning when Oikawa wanted to be left alone versus when he just didn't want to reach out, but almost a decade had passed since Iwaizumi knew that person. He didn't know if he could trust himself to read Oikawa anymore, and now, more than ever, he didn't want to hurt him; he couldn't take back what he'd done in the past, but he could keep from doing so in the future.

Maybe he was overthinking it; Matsukawa had told him to trust his instinct, but his instinct had told him to kiss Oikawa and that backfired terribly. Iwaizumi also couldn't truly differentiate between if he was unbiasedly relying on how well he knew Oikawa and how badly he wanted to see him. For Iwaizumi, everything had always been about Oikawa in one way or the other; it was nauseating to feel this way for someone, and yet he couldn't imagine his life without it.

When Iwaizumi finally texted back that he'd definitely go with him, Atsumu almost immediately replied with a string of happy emojis, let him know that he went three days a week now, but Iwaizumi didn't have to attend all of them if he didn't want to.

Iwaizumi had laughed quietly, ignored the knotting in his chest.

**To: Atsumu**

_stupid. of course i'll be at all of them._

Right after that text, he let Matsukawa know that he could set up the date.

He wasn't trying to one-up Oikawa (because, honestly, who could one-up him if it came to dating?), but he hoped that if he was dating someone, it would be easier for him to repress his feelings. Iwaizumi wasn't as good as Oikawa was at ignoring things like this (who was anywhere near as good as Oikawa at ignoring things?) but he figured it was worth a try. It was a futile attempt, especially because this date was putting Iwaizumi to sleep even as he drank his second cappuccino, but Iwaizumi was never one to give up so easily.

There wasn't really anything wrong with him. Matsukawa was right, he was a nice guy. He was around Iwaizumi's height, so he felt a little short, and had dark hair and tan skin. He listened attentively to what Iwaizumi said and played soccer, so he was athletic. When Iwaizumi asked what made him decide to work at a funeral home, he'd answered that he wanted to be in a position to help grieving individuals and make one of the worst days of their lives just a little more bearable.

So he was already an infinitely better person than Oikawa.

He took his coffee black, barely knew anything about volleyball, and didn't have a sweet tooth (didn't know what milk bread even was). He didn't say anything problematic or insulting or politically incorrect; if he were bread, he'd be a nice middle slice. There was nothing wrong with him, but if Oikawa were bread, he'd be three middle slices with different kinds of spreads on all of them.

Maybe Iwaizumi should've had breakfast before this.

"So you work as an athletic trainer?"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi nodded, swallowing and eyeing the biscotti. "I work with the national volleyball team." Oikawa liked biscotti. He'd eat it annoyingly loudly and Iwaizumi didn't know how it was possible for someone to crunch on something like that without deafening himself, but of course, Oikawa could and would. This was one of Iwaizumi's only chances to actually eat his, but suddenly he had no appetite.

"That's cool. Why didn't you keep playing volleyball?"

Iwaizumi suddenly realized he'd completely forgotten the guy's name and tried to not let the panic show.

"Oh, I'm a bit short, so I quit in college. I never planned on playing professionally anyway," he shrugged. "I played with my best friend in high school, and he went to a different school. For me, it was more about fun, but I figured why keep playing when at that level, the goal is usually to go professional."

"Makes sense," he said and Iwaizumi couldn't stop his instinctual frown.

_You should be asking why I gave up so easily._

"Is your best friend on the team? You mentioned you guys used to play together, right?"

Iwaizumi's breath caught in his throat and he brought his cappuccino to his lips to buy some time, hoped that a sip could unknot the tangle he felt at the base of his throat. "He… no," Iwaizumi answered. "He doesn't play anymore. And we're also not really friends anymore."

"Oh," he seemed taken aback. "Sorry about that."

Iwaizumi shook his head. "You couldn't have known. So you play in any recreational soccer leagues or anything?"

As the mystery date started talking, Iwaizumi took a cursory glance about the café. It was a new one that Matsukawa had chosen; their coffees were fine, but nothing that Iwaizumi would tell people about. The most appealing part was the decoration; it had that clean, minimalist look that would draw the attention of people like Oikawa—

-who just walked in.

Iwaizumi wasn't even looking at the door, but somehow when Oikawa walked in, his gaze immediately went there. And, likewise, in a decently sized and busy café, Oikawa's eyes instantly locked with his. Iwaizumi was sitting at a table a good distance away from the door; while there was nothing obstructing the view, it was a bit of a winding path to get to, and definitely not one of the first places someone would look when walking in.

And yet, that's what Oikawa did.

How, Iwaizumi thought, did they keep bumping into each other? Tokyo was _huge_ ; there were hundreds, maybe even thousands, of cafes and bars, and they seemed to just choose the ones that the other would be at. This actually, Iwaizumi thought numbly, wasn't his fault. Matsukawa chose this place; Iwaizumi had said coffee and Matsukawa provided the location. And now, Oikawa had chosen this place. Or another possibility was that whatever cosmic energy was manipulating Iwaizumi and Oikawa's lives was so strong that even Matsukawa had been drawn in.

_Did Matsukawa tell him to stop by? I'll kill him… then this guy can deal with the body._

He'd expected Oikawa to walk out, and he could tell that he was considering it. He hadn't let go of the door yet and it was still open; all he had to do was turn, take two steps and he'd be outside again.

But Oikawa let the door close, still standing inside and was the first to break eye contact, heading towards the counter. Iwaizumi's head spun from just seeing Oikawa; he turned his attention back to his date, but kept searching for Oikawa in his peripheral vision. He nodded as he kept taking, yet heard absolutely nothing he was saying, words spoken less than three feet away from him ignored in favor of straining for what Oikawa was saying maybe thirty feet away. The ringing in his ears was thunderous and it was only when he could see Oikawa leaving with his drink that the spell immobilizing his limbs was broken. "Sorry," he interrupted, "I—I'll be right back."

He stood quickly, almost toppling his chair as he slipped between crowds of people and out the door. It was easy to catch up with Oikawa; he hadn't gotten very far, and he'd always had an aura about him that was eye catching, even from the back. Oikawa didn't seem to be in a rush, Iwaizumi noted; his steps were a bit faster than normal, but for someone of Oikawa's stature, he could be much further away by now if he wanted to be.

Hurrying his steps, Iwaizumi reached out his hand but thought better of it and pulled back at the last second, opting instead to call his name; that, he felt, gave Oikawa the option to ignore him if he wanted to without causing a scene. His voice was definitely loud enough to catch his attention, but not so much that it would be seen as too obviously rude if Oikawa ignored him.

But he stopped and turned around, and Iwaizumi's heart dropped because he looked so effortlessly good.

His cheeks were flushed—it was a warm spring day, so it couldn't have been from a chill—and his hair was tousled, Oikawa's brisk pace only doing it favors. Iwaizumi had gotten up that morning and put more effort than normal into his appearance because of the date, but it didn't matter how much time he or anyone spent; to him, nobody would ever look good as Oikawa did even without meaning to.

It felt surreal to be seeing him in the flesh; Iwaizumi thought even the sun had moved to be able to cast light on him at the perfect angle, highlighting the dip of his collarbone, the sharpness of his jaw, the slender build of his body under the fit of his shirt. The light caught and speckled in his eyes and until now, Iwaizumi had never quite taken the moment to properly look at him; he'd grown up in the last decade, certainly, but there was still that innate charm that people were either born with or spent their life cultivating.

Iwaizumi felt someone bump against his shoulder; they apologized as he did and he subconsciously stepped to the side. Oikawa did the same and Iwaizumi felt his heart expand with relief because that would have been his opportune time to slip away.

He hadn't expected Oikawa to actually stop, so that now he did, he found himself at a loss for words. His apology still sat at the tip of his tongue, but that felt too heavy a thing to say for a sudden meeting in a small enclave. He wished he'd grabbed something; his hands felt too empty and he decided to rest them in his pockets after awkwardly fidgeting with them for a moment. His eyes lingered on what Oikawa was holding, wondered how strange it would be to comment on it for small talk.

If it were anyone else, not strange.

Because it was Oikawa, incredibly strange.

Luckily for him, Oikawa spoke first.

"It's not polite to rush out on a date to chase down an ex. You should really know that much."

Oikawa didn't give any indication he was teasing, but his voice carried no venom and despite his relief, Iwaizumi glared weakly. "..Shut up. Didn't realize you could tell with just a few seconds."

"You looked bored out of your mind," Oikawa said quietly and shrugged; he folded an arm across his chest and used the other to bring his drink to his lips. "Before I walked in, I saw you in the window."

The words rang in his head because Oikawa had seen him, and still decided to go in.

Iwaizumi couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt different. All of their other non-alcoholic encounters carried a sort of tension, but there currently wasn't any terseness. Neither of them spoke and it wasn't a comfortable silence, like it would have been in high school before they started dating, but there wasn't a suffocation looming over them, instead it felt…

…Sad.

There was a sadness, a hopelessness. Iwaizumi couldn't pinpoint the reason behind it; Oikawa had busied himself, playing with the tabs on his coffee and he was suddenly overcome with fondness for this person standing in front of him. In the weeks leading up to now, Iwaizumi had been so overwhelmed with the idea of Oikawa becoming someone he didn't know, someone he couldn't read. But this person in front of him, he was the same person. He might look a little different, he may have lived ten years that Iwaizumi had no idea about, but Iwaizumi could sense that the very core of who Oikawa Tooru was was still there and he was the same person who Iwaizumi had always found absolutely, annoyingly, atrociously endearing.

His chest felt stifled and it wasn't until he saw Oikawa pull a small frown at accidentally partially breaking his lid that he could breathe.

_Still clumsy._

"Atsumu asked if I could start coming along to his sessions," Iwaizumi said finally and Oikawa's eyes flickered up to meet his. "…I told him I would but wanted to make sure that you knew."

Oikawa stared at him for a moment too long, expression unreadable, but nodded and dropped his gaze. "…Yeah. He ran it by me."

Iwaizumi nodded and his mind went blank again. It used to be so easy to stand in front of Oikawa and not necessarily have anything to say. And then that ease turned into an unimaginable amount of anger festering inside of him just at the idea of having to physically be in the same room as him. But now Iwaizumi's chest hurt so much he was rounding his shoulders without realizing it, the weight of unspoken apologies and strangling regret almost unbearable.

Oikawa shifted; Iwaizumi didn't know if he was about to leave, but panic surged through him. "I want to apologize," he blurted out. Oikawa was staring at him when Iwaizumi's gaze met his; Iwaizumi realized he was just shifting his weight from one leg to another, not seeming to be about to leave, but at least adrenaline broke the silence.

Oikawa inhaled. "…Okay."

"Not here," Iwaizumi said, clearing his throat. "It's a lot. You don't owe me anything, but if you're free tonight, I want to properly apologize to you for everything. The bar—no, fuck, not a bar…"

Iwaizumi licked his lips. "The bakery you liked in Shibuya," he said finally. "If you can make it, I'll be there at seven."

Iwaizumi took a step back and had partially turned when he changed his mind and reared back. Oikawa was still in the same spot when he looked at him; Iwaizumi straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. "I do want to apologize for taking advantage and kissing you that night, though. That's something I want to make sure you know, whether you show up tonight or not."

He turned and headed back into the café, consciously making sure to not accidentally look to see if Oikawa was still in the same position. His steps back were even faster than the ones he took when leaving. Once he returned to the table, he gave a rueful smile, apologizing for leaving suddenly.

"Also, sorry to cut this short, but I have something tonight that I forgot about," he said. "It was nice to meet you though…"

He still didn't remember his name.

"…Shit."

The other stared at him for a moment before smiling and shaking his head. "Oh, don't worry, we never actually exchanged names. I forgot to introduce myself and then just couldn't find a good time. Issei-kun told me yours, but I didn't know if he told you mine. Guess he didn't."

Iwaizumi was smiling on the outside, but definitely not on the inside.

_Fucking Matsukawa._

"It's Ito, though."

He smiled.

"Ito Tooru."

_…_

_**Fucking Matsukawa.** _

* * *

**To: Matsukawa Issei**

_you set me up with someone named fuckin tooru??_

**From: Matsukawa Issei**

_hey oikawa doesn't have a monopoly on the name_

**To: Matsukawa Issei**

_???!!#%@_

**From: Matsukawa Issei**

_well i guess its different for you lol_

* * *

Oikawa watched seven o'clock come and go, never once even leaving his chair, much less the hospital premises.

He just so happened to idly glance at the clock when it was three minutes until and for the first time that evening, stopped working to watch the minutes tick by, felt every movement of the second hand in his chest. He was busy with work that day; there were a ton of papers to get through and patients to prepare for. Oikawa didn't purposely make it so that he couldn't make it by seven, but when he had been asked if he could take another shift that afternoon, he didn't say no.

There was nothing left to say.

He'd been on his lunch break when he saw Iwaizumi in an otherwise nondescript café; Oikawa had been intending on heading to an old favorite, but the décor inside caught his eye, despite the unobtrusive outside. Oikawa didn't feel anything when he saw Iwaizumi with someone and it was fairly obvious to him that it was a date; the other person was leaning in, seeming to cling onto his every word, and Iwaizumi looked bored out of his mind.

He didn't feel anything, but it wasn't in a non-jealous way. It was that at the moment he saw Iwaizumi on a date, his entire nervous system seemed to have vanished. Oikawa felt absolutely _nothing_ , like he ceased to exist at the idea of Iwaizumi going on a date with someone else. Logically, of course he could and of course he would; he was still a young man and Oikawa wasn't that foolish to think that Iwaizumi would never try again. After all, he had been about to get married. Moving on seemed to be something he was more than capable of.

He didn't know what to expect when he walked in and didn't think he hoped for Iwaizumi to see him until they made eye contact and his nervous system lit up in relief. His skin had gone from an abundance of numbness to feeling everything at once, the heavy warmth of a busy cafe, the light breeze from the open door, the brushes of his own clothes. He was afraid that his feet might detour him to Iwaizumi and so he broke eye contact, was quick to get just a normal latte and did everything he could to get out of there as soon as possible.

However, that being said, when he was outside, he didn't make much of an effort to make sure Iwaizumi couldn't stop him.

Oikawa had sent Kuroo and Kenma a new set of bowls and chopsticks but otherwise was either alone at home or at work. He was physically fine; he took his temperature multiple times a day and considered bribing one of the nurses to run some tests on him, but he felt awful. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he was either hot or cold or numb or overly sensitive; something was wrong and the only consistency was that whenever he thought about Iwaizumi, it got worse.

Admitting to hating him was exhausting was cathartic, but it didn't cleanse his heart of everything. All it did was assign a reason for his mental and physical fatigue, but it wasn't until he saw Iwaizumi again that he felt like maybe this weight wouldn't be forever. For just a moment, he thought that maybe he was okay.

Then he realized Iwaizumi was on a date and he'd gone from feeling everything at once to nothing at all.

He wasn't ready to talk to him, and yet there was nothing else he wanted. The idea of being face to face with Iwaizumi left him weak, but not being around him left him hollow. Oikawa didn't even know what he would do if he saw him again, and when Iwaizumi had called out his name, he didn't have time to think; he just turned around and felt…

... _Serene._

He felt calm. A peace washed over him, but it wasn't one of contentment; his heart was beating evenly and his breathing was rhythmic, but he felt like something that had burned in his chest had extinguished, the smoke tickling his throat but offering no words to verbalize what he felt. Standing like that across from Iwaizumi, the weight of everything but nothing at the same time left him quiet and heartbroken in a way he hadn't quite felt yet.

For the first time in a long while, he had been truly, totally, terrifyingly honest with himself and it had drained him. He felt like he had nothing left; for years, he'd clung onto misplaced and misguided anger and without that, Oikawa had only his truest and purest feelings to deal with, the weight of which he didn't think he was ready for.

When he looked at the clock next, it was nearly nine and Oikawa rubbed his face tiredly. He turned his phone over and pretended to not feel the pang in his chest at seeing no notifications besides Hanamaki and Matsukawa's. He stared at the screen until it faded to black again and stood; his legs trembled and his stomach growled immediately. Oikawa frowned, brought a hand to his stomach; in his frenzy of work and ignoring the clock, he'd forgotten dinner after having just a coffee for lunch.

Sighing, he pocketed what he needed and headed out. It just so happened that the café Iwaizumi was talking about was the closest one to the hospital that would still be open and with it being almost two hours, there was no way he would still be there. Iwaizumi wasn't patient by nature; when they used to walk to school together, if Oikawa was so much as thirty seconds late, Iwaizumi would be grumpier than usual for the rest of the day.

He wouldn't be there anymore, and Oikawa was fine with that. He'd been at work for so long and hadn't called or texted him; he knew what any reasonable person would do in this situation. Oikawa absolutely knew the consequences of his actions and he was all right with it; he'd specifically done those actions _for_ this consequence, he told himself.

Oikawa attributed the way his heart sped up to his hunger as he turned the last corner and saw the café come into view. When he passed by the large floor-to-ceiling windows, he purposely didn't look; he kept his eyes trained on the ground even as he opened the door, looked up only when he absolutely had to and his knees immediately almost buckled.

Iwaizumi was still there.

It was past nine by this point and the café had just a few people left. There was a college student in a booth, books and papers spread all over the desk, and a few couples still occupying the other tables. But Oikawa's eyes instantly went to Iwaizumi, sitting in a booth and partially looking away from him. He couldn't see his full expression, but from what Oikawa could see, he could tell that he wasn't angry or annoyed; he seemed to be fairly neutral. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest and back to the booth, his phone nowhere to be seen.

It would be too easy to grab a coffee and leave, but Oikawa found himself gravitating towards him. Iwaizumi stirred only when Oikawa sat down silently across from him, feeling breathless and not knowing how to say. He couldn't say if Iwaizumi had known that he was here; if he did, he certainly didn't betray any surprise in his body and with the cafe being so quiet, the squeak of Oikawa's shoes against the clean floor were definitely noticeable.

He kept his gaze downcast at first and even after he sat, took a moment to collect himself. Then he made eye contact with Iwaizumi and all the air was sucked out of his lungs and he forgot the entire language he'd been speaking for his whole life.

Iwaizumi smiled, a lopsided curve of his lips that crinkled his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, stole Oikawa's ability to manage his breathing and heartbeat. All Oikawa could do was drop his eyes and lick his lips, beg his mind to remember the language he'd spoken for twenty-seven years.

"…You waited," he managed at last.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi answered in a voice just as quiet but while Oikawa's had the slightest waver, his had an abundance of gentleness. "…You came. So I waited."

Oikawa sucked in his bottom lip, biting harshly at it and clenched his fists, pressing his knuckles against his thigh. "…How did you know I was going to come?" he asked in a small voice because he swore his mind didn't know that his body had been intending to all along.

Any reasonable person would have left and Iwaizumi was the most reasonable of them all, but what Iwaizumi and Oikawa had was something that couldn't be explained by rationale and logic.

Iwaizumi didn't answer at first and when Oikawa looked up, his heart swelled.

"Because if you're the same Oikawa I grew up with, then I knew you'd come," he said, tilted his head and smiled, "...even if late."

The waitress stopped by, bright and chirpy for the hour. Oikawa asked for an americano and glanced at Iwaizumi's mug, saw it was almost empty, and ordered another latte for him. She smiled and while Oikawa smiled back, it wasn't nearly the lustrous smile he always flashed at waitresses.

In almost all their other encounters, Oikawa held a galaxy of anger but now, sitting across from him, after stripping away his rage, he felt only a universe of adoration that had existed for Iwaizumi from Oikawa even before he was fully conscious of his existence. He hadn't thought that honesty would be even more exhausting than lying, it left Oikawa drained and he didn't even think about how to act around Iwaizumi. Instead of being so defensive and finding a way to twist everything Iwaizumi said, Oikawa allowed his instincts to guide their conversation and right now, his instinct was to sit quietly across the man he still felt the stars for.

They sat in silence until the waitress returned with their drinks; unsurprisingly, the café didn't seem busy this late at night and their wait was short. Oikawa cupped his glass with both hands and relied on the cold to keep him grounded. He was leaning forward; the small of his back brushed against the booth and his forearms were flat against the table, while Iwaizumi was still relaxed and leaning back into the cushions.

Oikawa wasn't sure what to say; even if Iwaizumi was the one who said he wanted to apologize, Oikawa couldn't help the words that were piling at the tip of his tongue and he was afraid what would spill out if he opened his mouth. He bought himself some time by taking a sip of coffee; as soon as the caffeine hit his stomach, he remembered how hungry he was and called the waitress over, asked if the kitchen was still open.

"Yes! What would you like?"

"Ah… do you have fries?"

"Yes!"

He felt Iwaizumi's questioning gaze when she hurried off and Oikawa shrugged weakly. "Didn't have dinner or lunch."

Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed immediately. "…You're not eating again?"

Oikawa sighed. "I was busy—"

"Your job is literally concerning people's physical wellbeing."

"It's not a question of again, I was busy—"

"Don't make me worry about you if you won't let me help you."

Oikawa blinked in surprise and stared at Iwaizumi. He was still glaring, but he could detect the pink glimmering on his cheeks; he exhaled quietly and brought a hand up to his face as the waitress returned with the fries. Oikawa thanked her breathlessly, never once taking his eyes off of Iwaizumi.

"…You worry about me?" he asked quietly. It was a stupid question; even if Iwaizumi's tone had been snide, his comments about his knee had never been malicious in nature. It was his way to show he still worried, even when they were throwing punches at each other.

And yet, Oikawa needed to hear it.

Iwaizumi's hand lingered for a moment longer before he dropped it and sighed. "Yeah," he mumbled, "of course. Even when I thought I hated you, hearing about your knee…"

He shrugged.

"…I'm always going to worry about you. You're why I chose this career."

Oikawa dropped his eyes, quietly mumbling 'oh.' He felt the basket of fries bump against his hand and ate one when he heard Iwaizumi's command. Oikawa loved fries; despite the majority of his life spent refining his athletic abilities and physical form, fries were something he could never give up entirely. Life, he'd always told Iwaizumi (who never asked), was about moderation.

And yet he could barely taste them; he hardly even registered how hot they were because Iwaizumi's hand was a few centimeters away from his and that electricity was all he could focus on.

"…You should have some too," he mumbled finally, pulling his hand away to push the basket towards him. "You waited over two hours."

"What makes you think I didn't eat?" Iwaizumi returned.

"Because we're not that different," Oikawa answered without missing a beat.

Iwaizumi stared at him, but he gave a small, crooked smile that Oikawa swore tilted his entire world too. He rested the weight of his chin on his palm while watching Iwaizumi take a fry; he brought a napkin to his mouth to cover his small smile, the first time in weeks that a smile was an instinct and not a conscious thought. He dropped his eyes, but even before Iwaizumi spoke, the hair on the back of his neck was rising.

"I'm sorry," he said and Oikawa closed his eyes, shivered involuntarily because just those two words were already skimming down along the length of his spine.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and focused his half-lidded eyes on the intricate lace pattern of the doilies on the table. "…For what?" he prompted quietly, genuinely curious.

"For high school, to start with," he heard and felt something start to unravel in his chest. "I think I finally understand what you were talking about."

Iwaizumi hesitated and Oikawa heard him clear his throat. "I realized it when I was thinking about when I was with Himari and… I started out as friends with her too. But when we started dating, I was doing stuff, stupid romantic cheesy stuff, that I didn't do when we were friends because I wanted to show her how much I cared. That's what you were talking about, right?"

Oikawa gave a shadow of a smile, nodded because he didn't trust his voice. He raised his chin, saw Iwaizumi press his lips into a thin line before taking a sip of his second latte. Oikawa reached for his iced americano, taking a sip so slowly that he swore he was just warming the beverage in his mouth before swallowing, which he found a little gross when he thought about it. He couldn't bring himself to keep looking at Iwaizumi, so he pushed the glass away and leaned back in his seat, gaze slated out the window. He could feel blood rushing to his head and grasped the glass to try and keep himself grounded, shoulders rounding.

It had taken ten years and Iwaizumi had finally realized, but it wasn't as liberating as Oikawa had thought. It wouldn't take back the last ten years and now that he was being honest with himself, he didn't want Iwaizumi to hurt anymore over this either. He didn't know what he wanted, but Iwaizumi's guilt definitely wasn't it.

Iwaizumi sighed and shrugged weakly. "I started wondering why I suddenly knew to do that," he continued in a low murmur. "It's not like I dated a bunch of people; she was my second relationship. It's not like I woke up one day and realized what I'd done wrong to lose you. And eventually I came to realize that it's because I was so used to having you by my side that I never thought I'd lose you. I took your existence for granted, thought that because we'd been by each other's side for 18 years, that the next 18 would be guaranteed. And you know what kills me?"

Oikawa looked up and felt his breath catch at the way Iwaizumi was smiling at him. One corner of his lips gathered higher than the other and his eyes looked at him so softly that Oikawa could've cried at that moment, just because of the tenderness alone. He looked away and tried to steady his breathing as he grasped his arms tightly, knuckles turning white.

"I still think we could've. I think the friendship we had is the kind that lasts a lifetime. The way we knew what the other was thinking without having to say anything. The way silences were never awkward. The way being with you was as natural as breathing, how you were my home and when I was alone, I felt incomplete. But as strong as our friendship was, no relationship, platonic or romantic, can last if both people don't put in the effort. You were right, I kissed you because I had feelings for you, and so we started dating romantically. But… maybe as a friend, I was putting enough effort. As a boyfriend, I didn't, and we lost everything."

Iwaizumi leaned his chin into his palm, looked out the same window Oikawa's gaze persisted towards. "Maybe if we'd stayed as friends, the last ten years would have happened differently."

Oikawa wasn't sure what to say to hearing the exact same thing he'd thought over and over again. He felt validated to know Iwaizumi felt the same way, but it was short lived because it didn't matter that they both thought the same thing; it wouldn't undo everything they'd caused each other.

He could feel Iwaizumi watch his trembling hand pick up his drink, ice cubes clinked against the glass and his sip helped matters only slightly. Setting the glass down, he took a deep breath and finally willed himself to look up, gaze gentle and honest. "…When I broke up with you, why didn't you fight for me?" he asked quietly, feeling like he was personally ripping stitches off of an open wound. Iwaizumi blinked and frowned, dropping his gaze. "I—I know it was unfair, but I was bluffing. You know me so well, I thought for sure you'd see past it and—"

"You weren't lying, though," Iwaizumi interrupted softly. Oikawa's mouth had still been open and his brow furrowed, but not from being interrupted.

Oikawa closed his mouth, licked his lips and felt his heart drop."…What?"

"When you lie about things," Iwaizumi mumbled, "you get really confident, which is why you pull off most of your lies. But when you're being totally honest, you're vulnerable and you can't look at me. Like tonight." Iwaizumi shrugged, smiled lopsidedly. "…You weren't lying, Oikawa. That's why I didn't fight it. I left because I thought all I was walking from was our romantic relationship. If I knew that I'd be walking away from _you_ entirely…" he shook his head. "…I didn't think _we'd_ be over, I thought we'd just stop dating."

Oikawa felt like the breath had been sucked out of him. He shook his head, sat up a little bit and frowned. "N-no. I just wanted you to show that you cared about me—"

"I'm not saying that wasn't your rightful goal," Iwaizumi answered, running his hand through his hair. "But you said that you didn't want _this_ … and that's true. You didn't want the relationship that we ended up having, where we just kept fighting, where I was taking you for granted. Besides…"

Iwaizumi licked his lips and his eyes focused on the tablecloth. "…You were about to cry and I can't be the person who knowingly makes you cry. Even when I was that pissed at you, I couldn't try to push back when I knew it wasn't what you wanted."

Oikawa still felt breathless, taking breaths so shallow he wasn't sure they brought any oxygen into his lungs. For years, he had thought that Iwaizumi didn't fight for him because he didn't want _him_. What Iwaizumi walked away from was their absolutely emotionally exhausting and draining relationship, which, Oikawa numbly thought, was the right thing to do. If Iwaizumi had stayed, if he'd pushed back, Oikawa would have crumpled; for Iwaizumi, Oikawa would always lay himself bare, even if it wasn't in his best interest.

But Iwaizumi saw that; he may have even known that Oikawa would have continued to cling onto a romantic relationship that neither of them were ready for. Oikawa had spent years cultivating an image of Iwaizumi being selfish and hurtful when he'd been looking out for him. He walked away from a romantic relationship that made neither of them happy, that made Oikawa cry more often in eight months than in their entire friendship. He hadn't walked away from their platonic friendship, the relationship they've harbored their entire lives. He hadn't walked away from _Oikawa_ , only a short-lived, ill-timed high school relationship.

He'd remembered how utterly devastated he'd been that Iwaizumi had left, how angry he'd been because he'd thought Iwaizumi didn't know him at all or was ignoring it. But with the clarity of hindsight, Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi made the right decision; Oikawa hadn't wanted that relationship anymore, but he'd been so terrified of losing Iwaizumi entirely that he was clinging onto it anyway. He wanted his best friend back but, in his mind, it was both Iwaizumi and romance or nothing at all, while Iwaizumi thought they could end their romance without severing their friendship.

So maybe the first breakup was Iwaizumi walking out and the second was Oikawa ignoring him. Iwaizumi gave up their romance, Oikawa gave up their friendship, and it took nine years for the universe to bring them back together.

"Oikawa, are you okay?"

Iwaizumi's touch was light and fleeting, but the knuckles that he brushed felt like they were set ablaze. As soon as he felt Iwaizumi's hand briefly touch against him, air filled his lungs and he looked up, clearing his throat. "Y-yeah," he breathed. "I'm…"

He trailed off and laughed breathily.

"I'm… just realizing how you were right after all," he said quietly. "All this time, I blamed you so much for our breakup because I thought you didn't know me that well after all if you couldn't tell that I didn't want to break up. But… turns out you knew me better than I knew myself."

His nails dug into his skin. Iwaizumi had always been so perceptive in a way that it left Oikawa wondering how he just seemed to _know_ everything; once he said something, it became so obvious, but until then, Oikawa would continue believing what he'd thought. However, even if Iwaizumi knew what Oikawa wanted, how he could see what Oikawa wasn't even realizing he was telling him, the fact remained that they'd had two different expectations of consequences.

He'd never thought communication would be an issue with them; they'd known each other so well, they were _known_ to be able to communicate wordlessly, and when they'd needed to, they'd stopped because there were some things that were too painful that he couldn't even admit them to his best friend. _I love you, but you don't feel the same way and I'm afraid you never will_ and _maybe it would be better if we'd never dated at all_ sat at the forefront of his mind because on one hand, all Oikawa had ever wanted was to be with Iwaizumi and on the other, being with someone but knowing they didn't feel quite the same way broke his heart.

And communicating that seemed impossibly hard because not only would Oikawa be hurting himself, it would be hurting Iwaizumi as well.

Iwaizumi smiled tiredly and shook his head. "I did cause our breakup—"

"It wasn't just you," Oikawa said softly, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. "…You're the only person I've ever been able to communicate clearly with, but when I should've been honest, I started lying," he mumbled, sinking into the seat and shaking his head, brow furrowing. "Or, well, I guess not a total lie, but I downplayed how I felt for you because I was scared of you realizing. I think if you knew… if you knew, you wouldn't have been as blasé about our relationship."

It was silent between them for a moment, the void of sound filled with a laptop's keyboard, a slammed textbook, and a chiming giggle.

"…So they were right," Oikawa heard at last, unable to bring himself to meet his gaze. "Hanamaki and Matsukawa, they said…"

"Yeah," Oikawa said. He took another moment before looking up and smiling softly. "…Yeah. They knew. They told me everyone knew. You… you really didn't?"

It had been so obvious. It had been _so, so_ obvious, but, Oikawa suddenly thought, he wouldn't be surprised if Iwaizumi hadn't known after all. Iwaizumi was never one to assume things, especially something like this; he could easily pass off Oikawa's lingering gazes and blushes as a _crush_ because love wasn't something that manifested so clearly that it could be discernable in a high school romance. It was something Oikawa kept in his heart, let it warm his chest and because he couldn't remember never feeling that way, there wasn't a change in anything for Iwaizumi to realize.

"…No," Iwaizumi admitted and Oikawa laughed faintly.

It wasn't fair for him to expect Iwaizumi to read his mind, even if he was good at it because there were some things that were his responsibility to admit. Iwaizumi was just about as close to Superman as anyone could be to Oikawa, but even Superman had weaknesses.

"…Well," Oikawa teased gently, "you're kind of dense about when people have feelings for you. I knew that and used it to my advantage."

"I'm not—"

"You do know that you have your own fanclub, right?"

"What?" Iwaizumi stared at him tiredly. "No, you're the only person who isn't a celebrity who has a fanclub."

"The national team," Oikawa said plainly and Iwaizumi's brow knit. "Literally all of them are in love with you."

"What? No, we're friends—"

Oikawa shook his head and leaned forward, weight of his elbows digging into the table. His heart felt surprisingly light considering the storm brewing inside of him and Oikawa took another sip of his americano. Nothing they'd said changed the actions of what happened, but it changed his perceptions. In just a few hours, almost a decade of memories took on a new light as Oikawa thought that as it turned out, Iwaizumi wasn't as vile and horrible as he'd caricatured him into being.

Nothing changed and yet, everything did.

Oikawa folded his hands and rested them on the table right next to the half empty basket of fries. "And… I know you, so I know you blame yourself for my knee," Oikawa said, looking up. Iwaizumi flinched at the sudden eye contact and Oikawa smiled, but his eyes were still a bit dark. "…Please don't. No matter what I've said or implied, that's not your fault. You've always been there, but at the end of the day, I'm ultimately responsible for myself and what I did isn't your fault."

Iwaizumi's brow creased even further. "If we hadn't broken up—"

"It probably would've happened anyway," Oikawa shook his head, cutting him off. "Knowing me… it would've. The only thing that could've changed is that you would've been by my side during the recovery. I'm not saying I wouldn't have liked that, but… going through it alone kind of proved to me that I can survive without you," Oikawa said quietly with a weak shrug. "That's also something that bothered me because… I felt so dependent on you for everything. Proving to myself and everyone else that I'm strong—"

"You never had to prove that to anyone," Iwaizumi interjected with a frown. "Nobody thinks you're weak, Oikawa."

Oikawa blinked and dropped his gaze; he'd always had Iwaizumi by his side and he'd made everything so much easier and so much tolerable that when he'd lost him, the fear of falling apart was debilitating. He didn't know how to survive without Iwaizumi; he didn't know how to exist in a world without him—and he'd learned how, which made him realize even more just how fortunate he'd been to have Iwaizumi, how rare their bond was, how it was even more special than he'd thought.

In a perfect world, they wouldn't have had to lose each other and they'd have known this all along. But in a perfect world, love would always be reciprocated and there'd be no misunderstandings. The world wasn't perfect, but it was about how they fared with the mistakes they made.

It took nine years, but with some retroactively described serendipitous meetings, the universe gave them another chance.

"…Then I guess I just had to prove it to myself," Oikawa said with a small smile. "I had to prove to myself that I can survive without you that as important as you are to me, as much as you feel—"

His breath hitched and he looked away, clearing his throat. "…Felt like my soulmate, I'm still my own person. It was probably one of the most brutal ways to figure it out, but… I'm glad I did. And hopefully the fact that I survived without you helps your complex about dropping everything to be by my side."

"I don't have a complex—"

All Oikawa had to do was look at him and Iwaizumi inhaled sharply through his nose and frowned. Iwaizumi cared; he cared so much, even when Oikawa shoved him away and said some of the cruelest things he could fathom, and that was his weakness. He had a kinder heart than Oikawa and that had always absolutely melted him because he couldn't believe someone so caring could exist in this world.

Oikawa smiled slightly, eyes half-lidded. Most people would have stopped caring a long time ago and even when Oikawa thought Iwaizumi didn't care about their relationship, he still cared for him as a friend. After everything that had happened, Iwaizumi's first instinct was still to worry about him when he'd found out about his knee.

That was the kind of good person Iwaizumi was.

Iwaizumi scoffed softly.

"…It doesn't mean I'm not going to want to do everything I ever can for you."

"I know," Oikawa said. "That's the kind of person you are. But… I hope you know that if you can't or if you don't, it's okay. I'll be okay. You're too kind, Iwa-chan, I think."

Iwaizumi was staring at him with a strange expression and it took Oikawa a few moments to realize why. Once he did, _Iwa-chan_ echoed in his mind over and over and he felt his cheeks burn. His heart leapt and he stiffened. "I—"

"About time, Shittykawa," Iwaizumi said and Oikawa instantly relaxed, found himself laughing, shoulders shaking gently. The warmth of a childhood familiarity crested over him, let break a comfort in his chest that he ached for. _Iwa-chan_ was reflex; even after all these years, it was a conscious decision on Oikawa's part to use _Iwaizumi_. While he'd never been at risk of calling him _Iwa-chan_ after they bumped into each other, Oikawa had spent so long purposely avoiding thinking or talking about him that when it came to addressing him, he'd had to think to say _Iwaizumi_ whereas in high school, Oikawa said _Iwa-chan_ without even thinking about it.

Iwaizumi sighed, shoulders slumping but smiling slightly as he shook his head. "I don't think you know how much it fucks with me to hear you call me Iwaizumi."

Oikawa laughed quietly. "I may have said your name on purpose a few times because I know how you hate it."

"I knew it."

Iwaizumi laughed; Oikawa bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment because he wanted to commit that sound to memory. Iwaizumi didn't laugh often and when he did, it left Oikawa's knees weak and his heart fluttering because he loved anything that meant Iwaizumi was happy. When he opened his eyes, Oikawa's gaze was relaxed, half lidded eyes watching the rest of his coffee slowly settle.

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Can I ask you just one more thing?" he asked quietly.

The warmth in his chest filled every space in the cavity, flooded between and around every rib, save one spot right behind his sternum, right in the middle; there was just one thing they hadn't addressed tonight, one question that had Oikawa's heart rattling his bones to think about. He hated hypotheticals, and yet they'd flooded him; however, this was one thing that he hadn't let himself dream about, just because it felt too dangerous to toy with the idea of. Iwaizumi had a soft heart, but Oikawa had a fragile one; it felt like one that nobody except for Iwaizumi could put together, not even himself, and Oikawa wasn't in the business of ruining himself even more than he already had.

Iwaizumi nodded. "Of course."

Oikawa swallowed thickly, clenched his hands and forced himself to look up at him.

"…Do you think if we stayed together, you could've felt the same way?"

Iwaizumi looked up and his pause, Oikawa could tell, was from surprise at the question, not because he had to think about his answer, and that made it all more delirium-inducing to hear:

"Yeah."

Oikawa blinked. The way he inhaled was shaky and suddenly and while he was grateful he was already sitting, it felt as if the booth he was in completely vanished and the only thing keeping him from free falling was Iwaizumi's gaze that tethered him to reality. "…Y-you sound confident," he managed, swallowing thickly.

"Because I did," Iwaizumi answered simply with an equally easy smile and Oikawa's eyes widened. "I realized it after we broke up, but yeah, of course. I was in love with you. How could I not be?"

_How could I not be?_

It was Oikawa's turn to feel his cheeks warm; he took the largest gulp of his coffee that he had all evening. His heart beat furiously in his chest at the revelation and it felt like his entire skeleton was rattling; blood rushed through his head and pounding so harshly he felt his entire body was swaying. He was sober and most of what was in his stomach was caffeine, and yet, Oikawa didn't know if he could trust his memory, even though the words echoed over and over in his mind, matched the shallow breathing, the quick, short inflations of his lungs.

_How could I not be?_

It hadn't been in his head after all and it took him every ounce of self-control to not let his head fall to the table. Oikawa had to take another moment to collect himself, fists clenched tightly. "…You've picked up a thing or two from romance novels, Iwa-chan," he managed to joke at last. As he sat back, the high of finding out his feelings _had_ been fully reciprocated started to wane as he realized that they felt the same way.

 _They felt the same way_ , he thought, _and if they hadn't broken up…_

Oikawa _hated_ hypotheticals.

Breathing in through his nose, Oikawa leaned back into the booth and let his head fall over, chin close to his chest. He folded his arms and cupped his elbows in his hands; in just one night, questions he'd answered for himself in the last decade had all been resolved. It had taken just one conversation, and yet Oikawa couldn't have imagined this happening any sooner than it did; there was so much hurt that they'd needed to recover from and they'd each learned things that were made easier by being apart. Maybe they tried to be together at the wrong time; they'd grown up together but building a world dependent on one person was dangerous. He knew both a life with and without Iwaizumi and now knowing both, knew he could survive either way, but much preferred one.

It was a horridly painful way to realize it and barely seemed fair, but maybe the universe had a reason for pulling them apart and leading them back together when it did.

He took one last deep breath and felt shivers trickle down his spine at Iwaizumi's quiet voice. "Oikawa," he heard and looked up immediately. Iwaizumi was gazing at him, eyes soft and the slightest of creases in his brow as he studied him. He watched Iwaizumi lick his lips, then press them into a thin line before asking, "…Are we okay?"

Oikawa stared at him, absolutely mesmerized by the way Iwaizumi was looking at him; his expression was so vulnerable and Oikawa couldn't believe that at any point, he'd wanted to hurt this person. He couldn't believe that he had twisted Iwaizumi so much that he'd hated him because now, as they sat in a nearly empty café and looked at each other over a cold basket of fries, Oikawa had only a universe of adoration in his heart for him.

"I miss you," Iwaizumi said, voice hoarse in a way that almost shattered Oikawa. "I understand if you're not ready and if you don't want to, that's fine too. But if there's any chance that you want to be friends again… I'll wait for you, however long you need."

Oikawa's heart leapt to the base of his throat, and he had to close his mouth because it felt like it was ready to jump to the tip of his tongue. He swallowed thickly, hesitated only because he had to quell a rise of emotion so nauseatingly strong, not because he had to think. He nodded as he willed the whirlwind brewing in his heart to settle.

"…Yeah, we're okay," Oikawa said softly and he could hear Iwaizumi's sigh of relief. He smiled slightly. "I… really missed you too. And of course, I want to be friends again. You were my best friend, nobody has ever even come close to what you mean to me."

After his admission at Kuroo's, his heart had been slowly crescendoing, despite Oikawa's attempts at muffling. It built gradually and gradually; as days passed, Iwaizumi was all he could think about because as almost a decade of rage all but disappeared, he had to confront the pain that was still so strong because of how much he still adored him.

Ever since seeing him at the cafe, it had become impossible to mute his heart; all Oikawa could do was lean into the feeling and follow the honesty he was finally allowing himself to revel in, lead him to this cafe, this table, back to Iwaizumi.

Oikawa trusted Iwaizumi more than anything, even when he thought he didn't, but he'd always been crippled by self-doubt. He'd needed to hear it from Iwaizumi, know absolutely sure that he hadn't imagined everything and that his heart swelled for someone who did care for him. And now that he had his confirmation, now that his heart had swelled as much as it possibly could, Oikawa could take a deep breath and exhale.

Iwaizumi had leaned back, nestled into the cushion of his seat; his expression already seemed infinitely more relaxed, and yet Oikawa's heart was pounding again. He clenched his fist and licked his lips. "...I'm sorry for what I said that night at the bar."

"Oh."

Iwaizumi blinked and Oikawa glanced up in time to catch a flicker of pain in his expression that wounded Oikawa as well. He looked away, but Oikawa could still see trace amounts of it, shoulders rounded. "No, you were valid—"

"No, I wasn't," Oikawa shook his head. "I was… I was really angry and I lashed out at you and I spoke without thinking. If I could go back ten years and choose between volleyball or you, there's no choice in my mind, I'd choose you," he said quietly. "I'm really sorry for saying otherwise because I can live without volleyball. I can't live with you. You're all that kept me going, actually."

He hesitated and cleared his throat, glancing up to see Iwaizumi's eyes flickering; once their gazes met, though, he looked away, seeming to be embarrassed. "...You're absolutely not the root cause of anything bad because anything that's happened, we both had a part in it. I made my own decisions and I wasn't ready to accept those consequences. You're the best thing that's happened to me and there were a lot of times where you felt like the _only_ good thing. I'm sorry I said that. I'm… I'm really sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for _wanting_ to hurt you because even when you were at your angriest, you never purposely did that. I'm done, I promise. I never want to hurt you again."

Iwaizumi pressed his lips into a thin line and Oikawa couldn't help a small smile at the pinkness tinging his ears. "…I'm sorry I kissed you."

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa said in a low voice, unable to stop himself, "you never have to apologize for that."

Iwaizumi's breath caught and Oikawa watched the way he swallowed thickly; it pained him but he pulled back, hid the way his hand shook. "Aah, sorry. I really missed teasing Iwa-chan like that."

"You—you piece of shit…"

Iwaizumi probably didn't mean it as revenge, but the way he pushed his hair back and looked away had Oikawa gulping. "So… we're good now? We're friends again?" Iwaizumi asked quietly.

"Yeah." Oikawa stirred what remained of his drink with the straw. "You know, Iwa-chan, it's funny because when we broke up…"

He trailed off and this time when he smiled, it was distant.

"We had chosen where we were going for college. We had decided on careers. We were planning our futures. It felt like everything was finally falling in place and the one thing I never thought I had to worry about… we fell apart."

Iwaizumi inhaled sharply; Oikawa kept his gaze fixed on the extra watery americano. Oikawa hadn't lingered on this thought, but it tore at him because in that last year of high school, he had worried about almost everything imaginable and even in their worst fights, he'd never worried about losing Iwaizumi.

He worried about the volleyball team in college. He worried about being apart from his friends. He worried about living on his own. He worried about being in Tokyo. He worried about choosing his classes. He worried about doing laundry. He worried about managing his spending. He worried about getting a job to worry less about managing his spending. He worried about everything except his friendship with Iwaizumi when, in the end, that was all he ended up caring about.

Oikawa heard rustling and vaguely wondered Iwaizumi what was up to and got his answer when he felt something wet hit his cheek.

It took Oikawa a few seconds but when he realized it was a spitball, he flinched and looked up with a start, glaring. "Iwa-chan! That's _gross_!"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi smirked and Oikawa didn't know if he meant the spit ball or agreed with what he just said. He set down the straw and shrugged. "But we fell back together, didn't we?"

Oikawa held his gaze; he eventually reached for a napkin and wiped at his cheek, felt his lip twitching and bit to try to hide a smile that would give Iwaizumi too much satisfaction.

They did fall back together, he thought; against all odds and all expectations, they'd found their way back to each other and when they tried to separate ways, they were pulled back together again, over and over until they were sat at this table. Even when Iwaizumi tried to reach out and Oikawa was still too blinded by desperate rage, he'd stayed where he was; he didn't pursue him before he was ready and he didn't walk away this time, met Oikawa halfway because it wasn't fair for Iwaizumi to always be crossing the distance.

Oikawa's heart beat, swelled every time it did so, and even though _how could I not?_ continued to ricochet in his ribcage and reverberate in his mind, he had always been happiest and most secure with Iwaizumi at his friend. His eyes lingered on Iwaizumi's lips and his Adam's apple, his collarbones and his jaw, finally rested on his eyes and when he smiled, watched them crinkle as they returned the expression.

Oikawa quietly brought the small container of straws to his side, completely out of Iwaizumi's reach. His fingers teased the imprints on the wrapped ends as his head tilted, fondly recalled when he, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki would get milkshakes after games and sodas after school. He remembered hours spent in cafes either with the three of them or only Iwaizumi, usually more time spent laughing than studying. He remembered memories that he had stowed away and instead of a flood of nostalgia, he smiled to realize that they could still get milkshakes and sodas, that though it felt like everything had fallen apart, it had then come back together.

"…Yeah. We did, didn't we?"

Oikawa looked up with a smile.

"And it looks like Iwa-chan's maturity level is right where we left off."

Iwaizumi's eye twitched and Oikawa grinned because even if a decade had passed and a galaxy of pain and anger happened, the universe of adoration remained as it always had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cardigan makes me want to dance in the rain when i don't like to dance or be outside in any kind of weather, so even before i knew anything else, absolutely had to make the cardigan chapter the first step of their reconciliation ♡
> 
> back to being friends:✓  
> back to dating: pending
> 
> thank you for reading!! sorry for the insanely long chapter, but maybe posting this way earlier than i normally do helps...??
> 
> kudos/comments appreciated as always ♡


	13. flashback in a film reel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i don’t think i ever stopped.”

Atsumu stared at Iwaizumi and Oikawa, who were chatting amicably with no indications of brawling.

_…This's not what Shoyo-kun prepared me for._

As a member of the national team, Atsumu had no choice but to be part of the group chats, and the fact that he'd created the first one and boasted about his own genius made his case to be left out even weaker. It had seemed like a good idea, and up until his injury, he had continued to think he made the single best decision anyone on the team had ever made. However, when he was at home recovering and just wanted to be alone, the constant notifications were annoying. Even when he'd leave the chat, he'd just be added back, and muting the notifications didn't help because he'd still see the chat updated when he begrudgingly had to answer Osamu or risk being yelled at by their mother for ignoring him.

Atsumu would wake up and see his phone drowning in new messages, hundreds from the Iwaizumi-less group chat. There'd be maybe twenty from the actual group chat with Iwaizumi; he would text the team any updates that the coach had him relay, and there'd be a chorus of 'thank you's and confirmations. Atsumu was just starting to answer the notifications again; he had to admit, there was something satisfying in being hyped up almost immediately by either Hinata or Bokuto with every text. It made him feel as important as he always knew he was.

Even though Oikawa was Oikawa, Atsumu would begrudgingly admit he was glad to have him as his physiotherapist. Personality aside, he knew what he was doing and as someone who had the same injury, Atsumu knew that he could trust whatever he said. It was fairly obvious that Oikawa was struggling with his own emotions and though Atsumu wouldn't bring it up, he could tell how far Oikawa would push himself to put aside his biases for Atsumu's sake; Oikawa had many shortcomings as a human being, but as a professional, he was about as dictionary worthy as a human being could be. The moments where his composure would slip were never during an exercise; they were always when Oikawa probably thought he wasn't watching.

Atsumu didn't like Oikawa at all, hated his personality, and found him annoying. However, he could recognize how much Oikawa was going through just to help him and he'd never admit it, but he did appreciate it.

Atsumu didn't mind Oikawa's clear disdain towards him; as long as he did his job, he could mentally break down however he wanted. Maybe it was selfish, but he'd never considered himself a selfless person; he wanted to get back to playing as soon as he could, and Oikawa was likely his best shot.

In the few weeks following his surgery, Atsumu had only seen Osamu, for three reasons:

One, his mobility was limited.

Two, he needed food.

Three, their mom made him.

Osamu overstayed his welcome every time. The first time, Atsumu had shoved him out with his crutches, only for Osamu to call their mom right outside his door, put her on speaker so that his neighbors could hear the way she berated him. Since then, Atsumu had stopped using his crutches as weapons and even though he was recovering from literal surgery, Osamu still wouldn't be any nicer to him. In fact, Osamu took advantage of Atsumu's inability to move around easily, went through his entire apartment to take back the things Atsumu had "borrowed" over the years.

He also "borrowed" some things as well.

Atsumu never asked for anything, much less for Osamu to spend the night, but somehow he'd be able to tell the days where Atsumu was having a harder time than usual and bluntly announce he wasn't leaving.

Atsumu told him he was being rude and annoying, and Osamu told him he'd be dead if it weren't for him.

This had gone on for as long as the doctor had instructed him, and then the extra week Oikawa granted. Osamu had been in his apartment when Atsumu returned; he didn't even ask when he'd managed to make a spare copy of his key, just started ranting about Oikawa, stuffed his face with some onigiri as he did so. Osamu nodded, spoke only to further infuriate Atsumu by agreeing with Oikawa.

_"Ya weren't even there, 'Samu!"_

_"Oikawa-san just sounds smarter than ya."_

Not even a whole week passed before Atsumu woke up one morning, took a deep breath, told Osamu that he could start just leaving the onigiri at his door. Osamu stared at him. _"Gonna charge ya delivery, ya know."_

_"Fuck off."_

Osamu left that day, told Atsumu that if he ignored his calls, he'd tell their mom _and_ send Kita if he couldn't come over, so Atsumu promised to at least text back if he didn't pick up. Osamu told him he was a pain in the ass to deal with, but Atsumu caught a slight smile right before he turned and left.

Atsumu tried to not dwell on the lingering anger that coiled in his chest. He'd submerged himself in it for _weeks_ and would admit that Osamu's presence was enough to divert his attention, but when he was by himself, it was all he could think about. He'd admit that this was one thing that Oikawa's grating personality came in handy for because if Atsumu was too busy focusing on how annoying he was, then there was less attention for him to focus on his own uncertainties and concerns.

It was a new normal; he started to answer some teammate's texts eventually, did his exercises, used his new spare time to study techniques and old games, and watch reruns on the television. Osamu dropped off onigiri, wouldn't leave until Atsumu actually paid him what he was fairly sure was an overly inflated delivery fee. He tried to physically keep the national team away because he only had two crutches to wave them off with, but eventually acquiesced to video calls, pretended that he dropped them so often because the signal in his apartment was bad.

In fact, Atsumu was getting used to almost everything in this new routine, except Sakusa being both nice and present and quiet and distant at the same time. That was a different issue altogether; Atsumu tried not to think about it too much, so he thought it was rude of his brain to always have Sakusa and his stupid curly hair and stupid mask at the forefront of a mind that should be focused solely on volleyball.

He'd heard about his shoulder injury from Hinata and though Atsumu's first instinct had him drafting an angry text message to him, the very slight bit of self control that existed kept him from sending it. For days, the draft sat where it was and one day he finally deleted it, just messaged him _omi-kun, yer not that bright huh_.

Sakusa, known for delayed (if any) responses, immediately sent back: _Do you know what the word hypocrite means?_

The next time Osamu showed up, it was with onigiri _and_ a package of masks. When Atsumu asked what the latter was for, Osamu bluntly replied that someone thought it was for the best if there was a physical barrier between Atsumu's mouth and the world.

Atsumu refused to even grace either Osamu _or_ Sakusa with a response, but kept the unopened package on his bookshelf.

As he continued to slowly reach back out to his friends and actually check notifications instead of ignoring them, Atsumu would skim some of the national team's and it was just a matter of time until he'd find himself in the apparently torrid love affair between his athletic trainer and physiotherapist. From what he gathered, Sakusa offered no insight and everything the team knew was what they could glean from Iwaizumi. Atsumu was sure all the information he needed was in the group chat, but he wasn't about to backread literally thousands of messages; he'd ask what he needed, even allowed Hinata and Bokuto over to his apartment one day so they could tell him everything in person.

By the end of the explanation, Atsumu was convinced that none of them had any actual idea what was happening, _but_ he was willing to get on board regardless.

Osamu had been over that day too. Not only was it his normal onigiri delivery day, but Atsumu asked him to stay, said that he would need help kicking Hinata and Bokuto out if they were getting to be too much. Osamu refused, so Atsumu bribed him with money, and then he agreed.

And somehow, even though Osamu hadn't had to chase them out, Atsumu still wound up owing him ten thousand yen.

Making a face, he pulled his phone out and leaned back in the chair, eye twitching to see 47 notifications—Hinata had started arguing with Bokuto about the ending of some drama, Kageyama tried to make them stop, and Ushijima was asking if anyone had plant advice.

He wondered how they, as a team, ever managed to do anything, and realized that they didn't.

**Hinata Shoyo:** _NO THEY GOTTA BE HAPPY IN THE ENDING_

**Bokuto Koutarou:** _akaashi said they werent!_

**Hinata Shoyo:** _whats ur proof?_

**Bokuto Koutarou:** _? akaashi said so?/_

**Kageyama Tobio:** _please stop_

**Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _Does anybody have fertilizer recommendations?_

Atsumu scoffed under his breath. He heard Oikawa ask if something was hurting and he shook his head, shooting him a grin. "Nah. Keep doin' yer thing. I'll wait 'til you two're done."

**Miya Atsumu:** _im with em right now nd theyre fine_

**Miya Atsumu:** _got me all worked up about some torrid love affair for nothin_

The replies were almost immediate; Atsumu had gone to text Osamu back about what onigiri he wanted that day, but Hinata was so quick to answer that when he went to tap Osamu's chat, he just ended up back in the national team's.

**Hinata Shoyo:** _what?_

**Bokuto Koutarou:** _oHOHOH?_

**Kuroo Tetsurou:** _lol i knew it_

**Kageyama Tobio:** _why is kuroo-san here? isnt this a team chat minus iwaizumi-san_

**Kuroo Tetsurou:** _this is an oikawa/iwaizumi chat and since im the only one who can get oikawa to talk about anything, of course im here_

**Hoshiumi Korai:** _theres no tension? sakusa didnt u say u felt like ur parents were divorcing?_

**Kuroo Tetsurou:** _do you have anything you'd like to talk about with us, sakusa-san_

**Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _Oikawa is not ready to be a parent._

**Hoshiumi Korai:** _thats…. absolutely not the takeaway here_

Atsumu twitched at Sakusa being mentioned. He couldn't help but physically scowl and glanced up to make sure neither of them were watching. Iwaizumi and Oikawa were discussing his progress and next steps; they were standing a normal (platonic) distance apart, and yet Atsumu could already think of all the ways he could tease Iwaizumi because the way he looked at Oikawa was so painfully obvious that even the cadavers in the morgue knew what was happening. Oikawa, to his credit, was at least able to keep that smitten, endeared look out of his eyes, but Atsumu did note that even Oikawa's quick wit faltered a little around Iwaizumi at times.

Eyes returning to his phone, as soon as he saw Sakusa's name, his lips curved into a small frown. Contrary to popular belief, Atsumu wasn't one to talk about his relationship very openly, _especially_ when it was one with Sakusa and it wasn't even exactly a relationship. They hadn't explicitly agreed that they were a couple or anything, but one time Sakusa took his hand, said it was worse than holding a petri dish but didn't let go.

If Atsumu hadn't been busy holding himself together, he would have reacted a _lot_ sooner to that insult.

He hated that his breath hitched to see Sakusa actually replying.

**Sakusa Kiyoomi:** _You said that. But yes, it was fairly awkward._

Atsumu reflexively went to Sakusa's chat once he was finished reading his response and sure enough, he could see ellipses hovering, letting him know that Sakusa was composing a private text to him. Their recent chat history was sparse; Sakusa wasn't much of a texter and Atsumu hadn't been in a chatting mood. If he scrolled back, he'd see short texts to confirm their plans or ask if they could borrow something (Atsumu had a growing pile of Sakusa's things, but, to be fair, Sakusa hadn't asked for them back). Sakusa's longest text was asking about Osamu's onigiri, which had not pleased Atsumu at the time.

The ellipses disappeared and Atsumu pretended he didn't care.

"Tsumu-chan?"

Atsumu twitched.

"Stop callin' me that!"

He locked his phone and focused on glaring at Oikawa. Iwaizumi lingered behind him; the way he glared back at Atsumu made him feel like he was getting in trouble at a parent-teacher conference, so he glowered harder in return.

Iwaizumi did the same and Atsumu faltered. Oikawa, naturally, remained smiling the entire time.

"What's wrong with your face, Tsumu-chan?" he asked pleasantly. Atsumu scoffed and crossed his arms, abruptly realizing he was continuing to feed the idea that he was misbehaving like a child. He uncrossed his arms, then realized he didn't know what to do with them and his hands ended up on the edge of his chair, insides of his wrists brushing against his thighs. His fingers curled over the side and hoped that he wouldn't accidentally touch any gum.

"Omi-kun said the two of ya acted like divorced parents," he said loudly, making sure to look directly at Iwaizumi. The way he flinched had Atsumu smirking. "That would be better than…" Atsumu brought one hand up, waved it vaguely, " _this_."

"You'd rather us make you feel awkward than supported?" Oikawa asked.

"T'be honest, it's kinda freaky when yer nice to me."

Oikawa laughed pleasantly.

"That is fair."

Iwaizumi's glare was now boring holes into Atsumu's soul, if he had one, and if he hadn't been getting unfortunately well acquainted with Oikawa over the past few weeks, he would have thought that Oikawa's lack of reaction meant he hadn't noticed. But because Atsumu had the unfortunate pleasure of becoming well acquainted with Oikawa, he knew better than to be that naïve.

Oikawa noticed everything.

"Sakusa-san has an active imagination," he responded and even Iwaizumi couldn't keep from scoffing. Atsumu watched the way Oikawa glanced over his shoulder at the sound; Iwaizumi was glaring at Atsumu, but when Oikawa looked over, his expression softened. Then when Oikawa looked away, Iwaizumi was glaring again and Atsumu smirked at him, lifted his chin. _Whipped, aren't ya?_

As if he could read his mind, Iwaizumi glowered harder at him.

"Yer gonna get wrinkles, Iwaizumi-san."

"I have to say, I agree with Tsumu-chan."

"Shut up. You two getting along is my worst nightmare."

Atsumu would allow this to be the one time both he and Oikawa were pleased with something at the same time. As Oikawa pulled up a chair and took a seat, Iwaizumi made his way around to stand by Atsumu, hands in his pockets and back against the wall. Atsumu took one more glance at his phone and, seeing no notifications, turned it face down just as Oikawa reached a hand out to lift his leg, extending it slowly. "Does this hurt?"

"No," Atsumu answered immediately, shoulders stiffening.

Iwaizumi thwacked the back of his head and because Atsumu had personally seen Iwaizumi beat every single member on the team at arm wrestling _consecutively_ , the thwack was akin to a light flick on the forehead.

"…A little," Atsumu grumbled, rubbing the back of his head and casting a glare to Iwaizumi, who returned it with a stronger one. "Regrettin' askin' ya to come now, y'know. Shoulda just asked 'Samu if I knew you'd hit me."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "Like he'd even come."

"That's not the point!"

"It is if you're asking him to come!"

Atsumu huffed angrily; based on the information Hinata and Bokuto pried out of Sakusa, he had been expecting mostly stilted peace and tense silences as an atmosphere, peppered with his own amusement of watching both Iwaizumi and Oikawa suffer in each other's presence. Instead, the two of them were getting along and only Atsumu was suffering, which was not what he had signed up for, but what seemed to happen most of the time.

"Is he doing well?" Iwaizumi asked and this time, Atsumu watched the way Oikawa looked at him, eyes brighter than usual. "Despite his personality and brain?"

Atsumu frowned. "Oi, what's that s'posed—"

"He's doing fine," Oikawa answered with a smile that Atsumu had definitely seen before but with an aura he hadn't felt yet. "As Tsumu-chan should know by now, the focus is on strengthening and getting his full range of motion back. So I think we'll start using treadmills and ellipticals to help with that. Of course, under supervision. Tsumu-chan shouldn't be trusted to operate heavy machinery by himself."

Iwaizumi nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

"Hey!" Atsumu protested immediately. "I got my driver's license, I'll have both of ya know!"

"Yeah, and have you _used_ it?"

"Well, to unlock a door—"

"Why'd you use your license for that? You know we have keys right?"

"Shut up, Iwaizumi-san, obviously I lost 'em—"

"That's a different issue altogether."

"It's because Oikawa-san was pissin' me off!"

"Ha? That's probably because you weren't listening. He's annoying but usually with reason—"

"…Usually…?" Oikawa echoed and wrinkled his nose at Iwaizumi. "Anyway, Tsumu-chan, just remember the usual, no overexerting, always wear the brace—"

"Yeah, yeah," Atsumu waved his hand. "Ya keep sayin' the same stuff over and over again. It's gettin' annoying."

"He has to because you're a dumbass who still would do exactly what he's saying not to."

"Ya know what, Iwaizumi-san, I'm thinkin' I'll uninvite ya startin' next time!"

"You brat—"

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa interrupted, eyes twinkling in the moment before he dropped his gaze to help Atsumu's knee brace back on. "Could you get the exercise bands from my office? And please, feel free to take a moment to calm yourself."

"You-!"

"Perhaps two moments."

Iwaizumi scoffed but he pushed off the wall and left the room without much argument, which Atsumu took note of because there was never a single instance at practice where Iwaizumi listened that quickly to anyone's instruction. Atsumu watched Iwaizumi leave; as the door closed and he saw Iwaizumi round the corner and disappear, he looked back at Oikawa. "Hey."

"Yes, Tsumu-chan?" Oikawa asked pleasantly.

"First of all, ya gotta stop callin' me that," Atsumu snapped and crossed his arms over his chest. "Secondly, yer actin' weird."

"I believe that is what they call _moods_ ," Oikawa answered without missing a beat. "If we're going to talk about that, I have to say, I miss how demure you were at first, Tsumu-chan… with each visit, I'm really seeing your true personality and, I have to say, I don't think I like it."

"And _you've_ been consistently annoyin' since the beginnin'."

Oikawa beamed.

"Thank you. I, too, think I am fairly consistent."

"That's not—"

Interrupted by a chime from his phone, Atsumu reached into his pocket faster than he'd care to admit. It still wasn't a notification from Sakusa; Hinata and Bokuto had started discussing a new plot regarding Iwaizumi and Oikawa, and Atsumu's brow knit. He set his phone on silent and flinched to see Oikawa peering at him with a strange expression. Atsumu immediately adopted a glare. "What're ya lookin' at?!"

"Nothing," Oikawa answered and Atsumu immediately stiffened. This happened often, where he'd ask a question and Oikawa would brush it off. He'd directly answer Atsumu's questions if it was about his recovery, like timeframe or exercises, but if it was anything alluding to Oikawa, he'd evade it and as it kept happening, he'd get more and more annoyed.

Atsumu wasn't quite as childish as everyone thought he was; he had about six months more of emotional development than people assumed. Those six months, though, included understanding Oikawa didn't _owe_ him answers about himself. But, Atsumu also thought, he'd rather Oikawa directly say that instead of worming his way out of answering and being passive aggressive towards him anyway, making little one-off comments that balanced very carefully between insulting and teasing.

"Yer—"

"You're going to want people to support you, Tsumu-chan," Oikawa said quietly and Atsumu found himself caught off guard. "Trust me on that."

"What, ya sayin' this 'cause ya had a big support system?" Atsumu grumbled, arms crossing over his chest. It seemed that while today had better-than-usual-mood-Oikawa, it also included Preachy Oikawa, who Atsumu hated even more than Normal Oikawa.

To make it worse, Preachy Oikawa usually had a point. In general, Oikawa had a point, but his way of delivery was so frustrating that Atsumu purposely tried to not listen to him.

"No," Oikawa answered and smiled easily. "That's why I'm saying this. I survived it alone."

Atsumu's frown deepened. "But ya survived."

"There's a difference between surviving and living," Oikawa answered and stood. "If you keep pushing people away, they might never come back."

Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face. His cheeks felt warm because the entire time Oikawa was talking, he'd been thinking of Sakusa and he absolutely hated that. To make matters worse, it seemed Oikawa knew, _that rat bastard knew_ , and Atsumu didn't know who he was going to kill but someone had to die. "Yer—"

"Tsumu-chan, I'm going to regret saying this, but I think we have similar personalities," Oikawa interrupted, smiling lopsidedly but not looking at him. "I know that _I_ hate that, but because of that, I'm fairly sure I know how you feel. If you have someone who really cares for you, don't let them go. It's rare to have that."

Atsumu didn't say anything, just lingered his gaze on Oikawa. He'd admit there was truth in Oikawa's words; as much as he hated to acknowledge it, that was one of the reasons why he'd take his actual advice seriously. Atsumu hated hearing people layering on sympathy and pity for him; he hated that attention, hated that they had no idea how he was feeling. Even Sakusa annoyed him; if he didn't reach out, Atsumu was annoyed, but if he did reach out, he was also annoyed.

Atsumu didn't want sympathy or even empathy; he didn't want unsolicited advice and only wanted advice from a very specific niche of people who knew _exactly_ what he was going through.

Only Oikawa, who had the same injury—and to a much more serious degree—could understand, so he was the only one who Atsumu would allow to say anything. Even then, he didn't accept it easily and preferred to mull over it for several hours before beginning to think that maybe Oikawa was right.

He was almost always right, which irritated Atsumu, even though that was what he expected.

"Not used to ya actin' like a therapist, even if ya are bein' preachy as hell," Atsumu grumbled at last. It was true; Oikawa usually kept his advice limited to the physical aspect of his recovery and anything else he said were generally one-off comments. This was the first time he was actually advising him on the emotional aspect of recovery and Atsumu thought that it was no coincidence this happened when he was starting to get along with Iwaizumi.

Oikawa smiled. "It's literally a part of my job title, Tsumu-chan. Keep up."

Inhaling quickly, Atsumu very nearly snapped and caught himself at the last moment, if only because he knew Oikawa would be way too satisfied. He crossed his arms and kept his gaze on Oikawa, noted that while he didn't look back at him, it was very obvious that he was purposely doing so. It had been maybe fifteen minutes since Iwaizumi stepped out, but the entire atmosphere had shifted. Iwaizumi's presence seemed to soften Oikawa significantly; even Atsumu hadn't been as irritated as he usually was and Oikawa even didn't secretly glower when he thought Atsumu wasn't paying attention.

But now that Iwaizumi was gone, their dynamic shifted back to how it always was, with Oikawa being evasive and preachy and Atsumu growing frustrated. He'd thought that maybe Oikawa had some kind of an epiphany about his obvious emotional turmoils, but Atsumu realized he hadn't; Iwaizumi's presence just temporarily helped him to forget about them.

"Oi. Can ya just answer one question for me directly?"

Oikawa glanced at him briefly. "I won't promise," he said quietly and Atsumu almost laughed, shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Expected that. Anyway, yer still into Iwaizumi-san, right?"

Oikawa stiffened and Atsumu couldn't help but smirk, felt accomplished because normally it was Oikawa making _him_ tense. Oikawa's expression impressively did not betray a single emotion, but he did stop writing whatever he was noting down in his files (for all he could know, Oikawa was just doodling him as a fly.)

"What makes you think that?" he asked quietly.

"I'm just sayin'," Atsumu shrugged. "Up til Iwaizumi-san just left, it was actually… tolerable to deal with ya. Now that he's gone, yer passive and preachy as always. Doesn't take a math genius t'put two 'nd two together."

The door opened just as he finished talking and Oikawa held his gaze for one moment, something flashing in his eyes that made Atsumu frown. But as soon as Iwaizumi announced he was back, it was gone and Oikawa brightly chirped a _thank you_.

Atsumu never got an answer, but he didn't need one because for as evasive as Oikawa could be, he could also be incredibly obvious.

* * *

Iwaizumi had thought he'd be dropping Atsumu off at home, but when he insisted that he wanted to tag along to practice, Iwaizumi didn't stop him. Atsumu wouldn't stop asking him about Oikawa (he was glad Atsumu was back to his awful, annoying self, but he also hated it), and so Iwaizumi started firing back with questions about Sakusa, effectively silencing him until they got to the gym.

Iwaizumi found out about their would-be-could-be-on-off relationship through a lucky guess; he didn't make it a point to stay involved with the team's affairs, but they flocked around him like they were animals in the wild, so Iwaizumi knew more about their interpersonal relationships than he cared. While some relationships were clear and established, such as Kageyama and Hinata's or Bokuto and Akaashi's, others were more subtle, with Sakusa and Atsumu being a prime example. Even after Iwaizumi accidentally confirmed it by bringing it up with Sakusa, he still couldn't see it; as far as he was concerned, they just constantly teased each other and sometimes Iwaizumi wasn't even sure if they considered each other friends. Sakusa always looked more annoyed than usual when speaking to Atsumu, and Atsumu seemed more insulted than usual when around Sakusa.

He had asked Sakusa once about Atsumu when they were leaving a session together. Sakusa was surprised that Iwaizumi was asking and, with a heavy sigh, Iwaizumi admitted that he was also surprised that he was asking.

_Sakusa adjusted his mask as they turned into the main lobby of the hospital. Iwaizumi watched with amusement as Sakusa immediately veered towards a hand sanitizer dispenser, held his hand under the sensor despite having done the same about three hallways ago and touching nothing since. "It's… a bit up for interpretation."_

_"So you're not friends, but you're not dating."_

_"Yes."_

_"…That sounds exhausting."_

_"It is," Sakusa said and Iwaizumi could detect the hint of a smile behind his mask. He opened the door, stepped through first and propped it open with his foot for Sakusa, who gave a nod of appreciation. "He is, actually."_

_Iwaizumi smirked, murmured 'yeah, I know the type.' Holding the door for a mother and her child, Iwaizumi waited until they were more than clear before drawing his foot back. Sakusa waited patiently and they began to walk together down the curved path, both sides boasting well maintained greenery. "Has he been answering your texts then? Or, I guess, have you reached out to him? Figure you'd have the best shot at getting a response."_

_The nearly invisible smile disappeared entirely and Iwaizumi couldn't help but frown, looking away because Sakusa's microscopic expression felt too reminiscent. "…No," he said and Iwaizumi didn't feel a need to clarify which question he'd responded to._

_"I'm sure he just needs time," Iwaizumi grumbled. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. "He reminds me of someone I used to know. You have to trust your instinct on when to reach out."_

_Sakusa didn't know anything, but Iwaizumi had a feeling he knew that he meant Oikawa. Iwaizumi wasn't sure how everyone seemed to know when he was talking about Oikawa when he never actually confirmed it and rarely even said his name, but he'd long given up on it; he couldn't control people's perceptions or thoughts of him, after all, and Iwaizumi had other things to focus on._

_"…Is that what you did, Iwaizumi-san?" Sakusa asked quietly and he meant no venom, his voice held only a lilt of genuine curiosity, but Iwaizumi still felt like he'd been punched. They came to a stop at the pedestrian crossing and Iwaizumi was very aware of the tactile paving beneath his feet, wondered if he should've worn some thicker soled shoes today._

_He hesitated, then cast his gaze to the side and palmed the back of his neck._

_"It's… what I wish I'd done."_

Iwaizumi's ears twitched to hear Hinata yelling Atsumu's name; he immediately stepped in front of him, arms crossed and glare heavy. "Hey! He's still hurt, don't make it worse! It's already enough work making sure he doesn't fuck himself up more."

Atsumu hummed. "You've got a strange way of showin' ya care, Iwaizumi-san…"

"Shut up," Iwaizumi grumbled, glaring at Atsumu's cheeky smirk over his shoulder. "Go sit on a bench and don't you _dare_ try to play."

"What if I set a ball while sitting?"

"Oikawa's gonna have to treat you for your arms too, then."

"Arms? Plural?"

Iwaizumi deadpanned. "Yes."

Atsumu wrinkled his nose but acquiesced and Iwaizumi watched him head over to the bench, made it a point to glare at him for an unsettlingly long time to make sure he would stay put. Once he was confident that Atsumu would behave for the time being, Iwaizumi glared at Hinata until he hurried back to his stretches and headed over to the other side of the gym; as he passed by the entrance to the locker room, Sakusa stepped out, door barely missing Iwaizumi. He blinked and gave a nod along with a curt apology, but his gaze quickly moved past Iwaizumi and he didn't have to look to know who he was looking at.

"You should go talk to him," Iwaizumi said, detecting the tiniest of movements in Sakusa's expression. Sakusa was listening because he was polite and not the type to ignore someone speaking to him, but his eyes were still focused on Atsumu. "He's getting closer to his normal personality, so this might be your only chance to have a conversation that doesn't make you rip your hair out."

Sakusa seemed briefly amused, shook his head and Iwaizumi could see his eyes flicker before pointedly looking away. "Thank you, Iwaizumi-san, but knowing him, he'd try to run away, and that wouldn't be good for anyone, especially him."

Iwaizumi frowned; he could hear the coach blowing his whistle, chastising everyone for stopping practice and ushered them back on the court. "I have experience with temperamental setters," Iwaizumi said with a shrug, "especially ones who need a whole damn ocean of space when they're upset, but you shouldn't take too long. I'm pretty sure Atsumu doesn't know how to swim."

Iwaizumi left Sakusa with a dry smirk, heading over to the bleachers and taking a seat, deciding that this way he could observe the whole court while also keeping an eye on Atsumu on the off chance he _was_ stupid enough to run onto the court. Iwaizumi was fully ready to leap down and body slam him to stop him, dryly though that it would be even more satisfying than he'd assume it to be.

Oikawa wouldn't be pleased, but Iwaizumi had a feeling he could explain his logic in a way that even Oikawa would have to agree with.

He heard a door open and close and ignored it in favor of checking his phone. A few weeks had passed since he'd spoken to Oikawa in the café, which still felt like a folie a deux. The first couple of days afterwards were silent; Iwaizumi didn't quite know how to reach out to him, so when he received a text from Oikawa, he immediately swiped on the notification. There weren't many texts between them with his new number; their messages to each were either short updates about Sakusa or Atsumu, or links to articles. But Oikawa's recent message was _Tsumu-chan's kind of mean, huh?_ and even though Iwaizumi had never liked to gossip, it was the best message he'd gotten in a long time.

And, well, there was a lot to say about Atsumu.

Their recently rekindled friendship was precarious at best. Iwaizumi had never felt awkward around Oikawa at any point in their friendship, but he'd also never thought they would have to rebuild a relationship that Iwaizumi was more familiar with than himself as a person. He found himself thinking twice about what he was saying to make sure he wasn't implying anything—Iwaizumi wasn't much of a read-between-the-lines type of guy, but Oikawa was very much a read-between-the-lines type of guy.

Every time Oikawa texted him, Iwaizumi's stomach would lurch in a way that he wasn't sure if it should be attributed to the fact that he was still in love with him or that he was afraid of losing him again. Once they started texting regularly again, it was almost unbelievable how quickly they fell into their rhythm; even if Iwaizumi was a bit on edge about what to say, the silences weren't awkward and he always had _something_ to say to Oikawa, he'd just run a quick filter on it.

Ten years had passed and they seemed to almost be able to pick up right where they left off.

**To: Tooru**

_atsumu wanted to come to the gym. what kind of devil magic did you cast?_

Iwaizumi stared at _Tooru_ , felt his cheeks prickle for a moment. Oikawa had nearly seen his phone once recently; growing up together, he's obviously known that Iwaizumi saved him as _Tooru_ and it would be embarrassing to admit how soon he changed his contact from _Oikawa Tooru_ back to _Tooru_. Oikawa didn't need to know that, or know how much Iwaizumi hated seeing _Oikawa Tooru_ exist so formally in his phone. It was just the way his name was saved, but it reminded him too much about when he thought he hated him.

He locked his phone and heard someone sit next to him; looking over, Iwaizumi immediately pulled a face.

"…Why are you here?"

Kuroo Tetsurou laughed good-naturedly, which was disingenuous at best.

"Iwaizumi, it is literally part of my job to interact with the national team and make sure they stop embarrassing Japan in interviews."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "That's what your job description includes?"

"It might as well."

Iwaizumi looked back to the court just in time to watch Bokuto attempt to juggle five volleyballs, Hinata throwing him a sixth, Atsumu cheering from the sidelines, and Sakusa watching with no intention of stopping the very bad idea.

"…Yeah, that's fair."

Kuroo slipped out of his suit jacket and tossed it casually next to him, folded just enough to avoid wrinkles, but not enough to be uncharacteristic of him. Iwaizumi wondered if Kuroo actually needed to constantly be wearing a suit; he couldn't imagine that his job was that strict and wouldn't be surprised if Kuroo did this on his own volition, just to stress people out when he walked up to them. Iwaizumi sighed and rubbed his face; Kuroo hadn't even said anything infuriating, but he could sense the pending headache. "Then why aren't you down there, teaching Hinata and Kageyama how to talk to cameras?"

"Just wanted to catch up with my best bud first."

Iwaizumi had a very bad feeling he was not going to enjoy this conversation.

"I'm actually here because I'm worried about Oikawa," Kuroo continued and Iwaizumi blinked, frowning but looking over at the mention of his name. "He's been turning down my summons—"

"Summons?"

"—which isn't a huge bummer, because last time we hung out he broke some of our chopsticks, but he said he was hanging out with you," Kuroo said, slating his gaze over idly. "That true or is that just an obvious lie I'm supposed to be catching onto?"

Iwaizumi didn't appreciate the way Kuroo's cat-like eyes were staring at him and vaguely remembered how he had once mentioned he was a dog person. Iwaizumi was still fairly sure he was lying, even if he didn't have any proof. There was no way that Kuroo Tetsurou was a dog person, not when he acted like _that_ and was dating Kozume Kenma.

He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away. "…No, he's telling the truth. We've been hanging out."

Feeling cool fingers on his chin, Iwaizumi jolted and was ready to throw a punch to stop whatever weird thing Kuroo was planning. He managed to restrain himself long enough to realize Kuroo was examining his face and he scowled, slapping his hand away. "Piss off. We haven't been fighting."

Kuroo laughed in a way that made Iwaizumi's blood boil. "Hey, I'm just making sure. In the short time I've known Oikawa, he's become something like a son to me—"

"…That's a really fucking weird thing to say."

"—so I care about him. Your entire team's rooting for you two to get back together too. We're all on the side of love."

"Yeah, I know," Iwaizumi grumbled, glaring at them even though nobody was looking his way. "They're not good at being subtle. It's not going to happen though."

Kuroo bobbed his head. "Right."

"No, really," Iwaizumi mumbled and his peripheral vision caught Kuroo turning towards him. "We're just barely friends again. I'm not risking it."

"You're already going into this thinking you're going to lose him?" he asked, tilting his head. "I mean, I never thought you were an optimist, but didn't think you'd be this pessimistic. You're a… 'there's some water in the glass' sort of guy."

"I'm just making sure I don't take him for granted again," Iwaizumi muttered, dropping his eyes.

Oikawa was, officially, a pain in the ass. He was irritating and infuriating and over-the-top and the personification of hyperbolic, but, Iwaizumi thought, he was also one of the most loyal, hard-working people who existed. He made Iwaizumi always want to push himself to be better than he was, reminded him that there was never a limit. Having him in his life, Iwaizumi thought with absolutely no exaggeration, was like the universe specifically gracing him with good fortune and to be able to lose him and get him back wasn't something Iwaizumi would risk.

Kuroo didn't say anything at first and Iwaizumi was left to his own ruminations, feeling bursts of nerves light up his skin at the thought of Oikawa.

Iwaizumi didn't realize it was possible to miss someone who was physically, emotionally, and mentally existing in his life. He hadn't missed Oikawa this much when he literally had no idea where he was for nine years and looking back, Iwaizumi wondered how he could have ever convinced himself he didn't care for someone who was more important to him than his own life. Absence supposedly made the heart fonder, but all it did was make it difficult to breathe until he met Himari.

Then Oikawa came back into his life and with just one look, had Iwaizumi laid out in his palm and tore down all his defenses with a smirk.

He'd never been strong against Oikawa, not even when they first saw each other again. Iwaizumi was generally known to be able to keep his calm when in a serious situation, and yet all Oikawa did was exist and Iwaizumi found himself throwing punches, falling right into Oikawa's obvious taunts. As long as it was Oikawa, Iwaizumi's reaction would be extreme and immediate because if Oikawa was the textbook example of simmering his feelings for an eternity, Iwaizumi was under "erupt" and "immediate."

All Oikawa had to do was look at him and Iwaizumi would end up doing exactly what he wanted.

"You still love him, don't you?" Kuroo asked quietly. Iwaizumi didn't answer, but he heard Kuroo shift and right before he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, caught sight of Kuroo leaning with his elbows on his knees. "You're not even going to try? You two finally learned how to talk, right?"

"I'm not going to broach the topic unless he does," Iwaizumi said quietly. "We're okay again because I trusted my gut on when to talk to him and my gut says that if I try to bring it up now… it'll terrify him. It's entirely in his court."

Kuroo didn't say anything. Iwaizumi heard a sigh and followed it with one of his own, dropping his hand so half-lidded eyes could watch the team start to run practice drills.

"Iwaizumi," he heard Kuroo say in a low voice, "I know you're just looking out for Oikawa, but… it's okay to be a little selfish once in a while and admit to yourself and him what you want. I think he's stronger than you might think."

"He is," Iwaizumi agreed.

His lips twisted for a brief moment before parting for another sigh.

"...But I don't want something that I don't know if he wants."

* * *

**From: Iwa-chan**

_atsumu wanted to come to the gym. what kind of devil magic did you cast?_

Iwaizumi's text lit up Oikawa's phone just as he was leaving the gym, duffel slung over his shoulder and hair damp from his shower. After the session with Atsumu and Iwaizumi, Oikawa had decided to take advantage of the uncomfortable way his heart was thudding in his chest and put all that energy to productive use. He had always made it a point to stay in shape, but pretended to not realize that when he and Iwaizumi started talking again, his workouts started to become longer because he'd rather explain his racing heart as due to cardio and not something else entirely.

Oikawa wasn't usually the first to text; he was normally the _last_ to text, always getting in the final word, and the _most_ to text, using emojis superfluously, but rarely the first. However, after the conversation in the café, he had texted first without thinking; all he thought about was desperately wanting to have some kind of communication with Iwaizumi and racked his brain for something to say that was casual but opened an ongoing conversation.

And so, Atsumu finally presented a purpose.

One of Oikawa's most defining characteristics was, when positively put, his determination which, when negatively put, was just him being stubborn. He was so good at committing his mind to something that he had convinced himself he hated Iwaizumi and that he was the root cause of everything that had gone wrong in his life. Looking back, Oikawa could clearly see how ridiculous that was but realized even when he supposedly hated him, Iwaizumi was the one person who kept him sane and made it possible for him to keep going.

It was uncomfortable for him to finally admit that he didn't hate him; he had come so, _so_ close to genuinely believing it, fully immersing himself in that liminal space where he was prepared to spend the rest of his life. Oikawa had done everything he could to feed the image that Iwaizumi was a villain, but all that had to happen for it to crack was for Iwaizumi to show up.

Because if Iwaizumi wasn't there to defend himself, it was easy to villainize him. Oikawa could blame Iwaizumi for their breakup, he could blame him for not reaching out afterwards despite always having been the one to do so, he could blame him for hurting Oikawa so much that he ruined his knee because of it. He could blame Iwaizumi for being why he'd emotionally shut down for years because he _had_ to have known the consequences of his actions.

Except Iwaizumi was also a person, going through his own breakup and his own losses and contrary to what Oikawa may seem to believe, he knew that Iwaizumi couldn't always have his world revolve around him. He had to take care of himself first and foremost and Oikawa couldn't fault him for that because like Kuroo said, Iwaizumi lost Oikawa as much as Oikawa lost Iwaizumi.

And, Oikawa had come to realize, it was vastly unfair for him to pin the entirety of their breakup on Iwaizumi because even if Iwaizumi could be brash and rough with his words, he was in a relationship where Oikawa wasn't being fully honest. He had hidden the true extent of his feelings and hadn't communicated them properly; it was embarrassing to admit, but Oikawa realized his own wrongdoings. Iwaizumi may have hurt him, but nothing Iwaizumi did could ever truly compare to the pain that Oikawa knowingly, willingly, and purposely caused and the fact that Iwaizumi forgave him for it was a testament to the kind of person he was.

Oikawa's heart ached.

Realizing he didn't hate him and admitting he didn't hate him were two different things and there were times where Oikawa still felt on the fence about the true nature of his feelings because everything felt so complicated and knotted in his chest. Iwaizumi probably knew, because Iwaizumi knew everything about him, but with everything Oikawa felt for him, apathy was out of the question and hate was easier than love.

However, Oikawa was so tired of pretending he hated Iwaizumi because he didn't; he didn't hate him at all, he never did and he never could. His body yearned for him in every way possible and even when they were at opposite ends of the room, Oikawa would feel pulled towards him. The way Iwaizumi could sense when Oikawa was in a room, he could as well, though presenting it less subtly. It didn't matter when or where or how; if Iwaizumi was in the vicinity, Oikawa would always find him, even without meaning to.

Oikawa believed in soulmates and there had been a time where he genuinely believed Iwaizumi was his.

Smiling to himself at Iwaizumi's text, Oikawa glanced up to make sure he wasn't walking into anyone or anything. He had taken a headband out of his bag and used it to keep his bangs back; because his only plans for the day were to go home and relax, it no longer mattered what his hair decided to do. Besides, Oikawa knew how good he looked with a headband, and the fact that not one, not two, but _four_ strangers had looked over and smiled confirmed it.

The only person who seemed to never fall for his headband hairstyle was Iwaizumi, who would take the headband and shoot it at his face.

Texting Iwaizumi was wonderfully familiar. He tried to not think about all the messages that he had lost when he changed his number; he'd screenshotted so many bits and pieces of their conversation to reread whenever he was feeling down, a lot of the later ones being from when Iwaizumi would (accidentally) say something that meant much more to Oikawa than he probably intended.

Oikawa couldn't help his mind from flickering briefly to Iwaizumi's ex; happiness never came easily and freely to Oikawa, and his relief at rekindling his friendship with Iwaizumi came at the cost of constantly wondering about his ex- _fiancee._ Oikawa wasn't expecting Iwaizumi to still want to be with him—if he thought about it, the idea of dating him again was absolutely terrifying and he didn't know if he wanted to try again—but thinking about Iwaizumi marrying someone else made it impossible for Oikawa to breathe.

Their conversations easily fell into the natural rhythm of what friends talked about, though as exes, there were obvious topics they wouldn't broach. However, that didn't stop Oikawa from wondering about his relationship; he'd then remember that they had broken up, seemingly the very night he and Iwaizumi bumped into each other. He couldn't tell how he had been holding up, which frustrated him; Iwaizumi had never been the one between them who was able to hide his feelings well, and it seemed that he'd figured out how to do so in the last decade.

Oikawa's heart sank to think about how much Iwaizumi must have loved her to propose.

It made him sick to think about, and Oikawa couldn't bring himself to ask Hanamaki or Matsukawa. Even if they told him—they could run their mouths quite a bit, but in the end they were still loyal friends—Oikawa wasn't sure if he could handle the answer, knowing that Iwaizumi had almost married someone else.

Oikawa was never one to run from a fight, but if he'd come back to Tokyo to find Iwaizumi happily married, there was a good chance he would have been on the first flight out of the country.

"Yo."

Oikawa wasn't even surprised that he bumped into Hanamaki as he was making his way to a café before heading home; he seemed to show up everywhere which, given his unemployed status, wasn't all too surprising. The area Oikawa was in was close to both their apartments. There'd been times where Oikawa would be out running errands and he'd see Hanamaki milling around, either spacing out and snacking on something or sitting at a cafe. He'd quite quickly come to accept it as the norm.

"Hi," Oikawa returned, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. "You free for coffee?"

"I've got all the time in the world," Hanamaki grinned.

Oikawa laughed quietly and they started heading down the street together. Hanamaki commented on his headband and Oikawa asked if he wanted one, that his hair was now long enough. Hanamaki answered that he couldn't pull it off, to which Oikawa thanked him for the comment.

"Didn't say you were."

"You shouldn't lie, Makki, it's very unbecoming."

Hanamaki just snorted and Oikawa laughed, adjusting the headband. "So," he asked, "when _are_ you going to get a job?"

"When I decide what I wanna do. When I decide I'm done doing nothing. It's really all up in the air right now, I just needed a break from the crushing weight of capitalism."

As Hanamaki was talking, Oikawa was looking at his phone again, but kept nodding and responding to reassure Hanamaki he was still paying attention, despite the fact that his eyes and fingers were focused entirely on the task of responding to Iwaizumi. Oikawa was always good at multitasking, but if he was honest about the partition of his focus at the moment, instead of fifty fifty, it was more like eighty twenty.

**To: Iwa-chan**

_nothing! it must be your influence_

"That's flirty. When'd you change it back to Iwa-chan?"

Flinching at Hanamaki's unsolicited and unexpected criticism, Oikawa pulled a face, ignoring his question. "You shouldn't spy on people's private conversations, Makki," he scolded, but deleted the drafted reply. He knew that Hanamaki was watching the way his thumbs hovered over his screen, torn until he sighed and reached to card his fingers through his hair. "…Fine, then what do I say instead?"

Hanamaki cackled.

"You're kidding, right?"

Arriving at the café, Hanamaki refused to elaborate on his reaction, holding a hand up to silence Oikawa as they ordered their drinks. Oikawa kept glaring and won the battle when Hanamaki sighed and paid for his coffee as well; they brought their drinks over to a table, where Oikawa unceremoniously dropped his duffel close to the window and took a seat. He absentmindedly rubbed his knee (he _may_ have pushed himself a little bit today) and noticed Hanamaki's lingering gaze.

He smiled slightly. "It's not polite to stare."

"Sorry," Hanamaki said, clearing his throat. "You mentioned it, but I honestly forgot about it until now. …Sorry to hear about it."

Oikawa shook his head and took a sip of his drink, pleasantly surprised at the strong but smooth taste. While in line, he'd asked how Hanamaki knew about this place because in high school, Oikawa had been the one to know all the coffee and bakeries.

_"Dude, I've been to them all. Unemployed, remember?"_

_"If you're unemployed, where are you getting the money?"_

_"First of all, it's just coffee. Second of all, Matsukawa."_

"It's been almost a decade."

"Yeah, but you've got an elephant's memory," Hanamaki replied with a shrug. "You ever talk to anyone about it?"

Oikawa smiled dryly, regarding him warily. "I'm not like you, Makki, I don't need to talk about everything."

Hanamaki scoffed. "You're right, you're not like me, because if I did something like that, I'd know to go to my support system instead of cutting them all off and pretending it's not killing me."

Oikawa's expression fell and he glared lightly. "You've gotten meaner, Makki."

"Hey, I never said I wasn't still a little mad at you."

Oikawa pouted but he didn't push back; he could likely win the argument (or, at least, as much as one could win against Hanamaki), but knew that Hanamaki had the moral high ground on this one. Maybe this was what maturing was like, Oikawa thought, knowing when to not pick a fight if he was in the lowlands. Perhaps he was finally, truly maturing. He congratulated himself on his personal growth.

"You're familiar with Miya, right?" Oikawa asked, panned his expression over to see Hanamaki stare at him. Even if he didn't play now, he'd had a passion for the sport, and Oikawa expected him to keep up. And, if on the off chance he didn't love volleyball anymore, he'd think him to care because of Iwaizumi.

"Onigiri?"

"No—oh," Oikawa made a face. "Ah, I didn't realize. But no, Volleyball Miya. Treating him for a torn ACL right now." Oikawa took a sip of his coffee and tilted his head. "You think they're related? Volleyball Miya-chan and Onigiri Miya-chan?"

"They're _literally_ identical twins, Oikawa."

Oikawa formed an 'o' with his mouth at this revelation and Hanamaki just sighed, rubbing his face. "Man… seriously never understood what Iwaizumi saw in you."

"I'm _charming_ , Makki," he explained, felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of Iwaizumi.

"You're _obnoxious_ ," Hanamaki clarified and shook his head. "But even so, you're never obnoxious about the right stuff. You're treating the setter of the national team for a torn ACL? Why am I hearing about this only now? If you wanted to complain about that, you'd be well within your rights to."

Oikawa finally set his phone down, screen still bright; he'd been holding it this entire time, but he still hadn't thought of a non-flirty response to Iwaizumi. He was careful to not look at Hanamaki; there were about three people in the world who could read him within five seconds, and Hanamaki was one of them. He played with his straw, using it to stir the melting ice cubes in his drink; Hanamaki's gaze was heavy on him, but since he was used to the weight of Iwaizumi's glare, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"It's fine," he said finally, smiling brightly. "It's my job, you know. I think the fact that I'm personally acquainted with this injury actually makes me better suited to treat Tsumu-chan."

Hanamaki's eyes narrowed and Oikawa kept his gaze pleasant and light, breezy and airy, cool and easy. Hanamaki's expression never flickered, but he eventually rolled his eyes and bit at his straw. Oikawa's smile widened at his victory.

"Whatever, Iwaizumi's the only one who could ever really deal with you. This isn't something I'm gonna try and unpack," Hanamaki shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "So I'm guessing you haven't talked to him about it yet?"

A couple passed by in the window, one with black hair and one blond; Oikawa's mind immediately flickered back to a recent lunch he'd had with Iwaizumi. He'd thought meeting up for lunch during the week would be a rare occurrence, but it soon turned into something he could expect three or four times a week, which he absolutely wouldn't complain about.

Oikawa was generally perceptive, especially when it came to gossip, but he'd never been in the same room as both Sakusa and Atsumu, and so had to rely on Iwaizumi to tell him that they _were kind of sort of maybe possibly_ dating.

_"Possibly? Iwa-chan doesn't keep track?"_

_"Piss off," Iwaizumi grumbled. He fished out two pairs of disposable chopsticks from the basket, handed a pair to Oikawa and then broke his own cleanly. When Oikawa just stared, Iwaizumi glared lightly but broke his for him as well, handed them back silently. "I wasn't hired to be a matchmaker."_

_"If that were the case, I don't think Iwa-chan would've been hired to begin with…"_

_Oikawa returned Iwaizumi's glare with a cheeky smile and brought a mouthful of rice to his mouth. "Just ask Shoyo-kun. He's much more perceptive—"_

_Oikawa hesitated and shook his head. "Ask Tobio-chan. He'll know, but won't want to."_

_Iwaizumi glared, grabbed the bottle of furikake and added some into Oikawa's bowl. Oikawa almost laughed because while Iwaizumi was intending on doing something to annoy him, he'd actually read his mind. "I don't want to confirm it because then I'll have to know for sure."_

_"Tsumu-chan and Sakusa-san, huh… I have to say, they're unexpected," Oikawa paused to blow on his next bite. "Actually, I suppose it makes sense. Poor Omi-kun."_

_"You call him Omi-kun too?"_

_"Too?" Oikawa echoed._

_"Yeah, that's what Atsumu normally calls him. That or Omi-Omi."_

_Oikawa pulled a face as Iwaizumi blew on his rice before taking a bite. "…I don't like that he calls him what I call him."_

_Iwaizumi shrugged, digging his chopsticks back into his bowl already. "He knew him first, so I'm pretty sure he gets dibs."_

_"Why are you on his side?"_

_"I'm not—fuck, don't dump the whole_ — _!"_

"Tsumu-chan? Of course I have. You know he has a thing with another member of the team? It's frustrating to see them like each other but not get together."

Hanamaki was quiet for a very long time, then sighed incredibly slowly.

"…Yeah. Must be frustrating to have to witness that."

Breezing right over all the implications behind that sarcastic comment, Oikawa took another sip of his coffee. "Anyway, I haven't really talked to Iwa-chan about Tsumu-chan and Omi-kun's budding romance. Well, I suppose that's a lie, we talked about it recently—"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Oikawa." Hanamaki said in a low voice, slated his gaze back over. "I'm worried about you, you know. If you disappear on us again… well, this time Iwaizumi's not gonna let you go, and Matsukawa and I can't just let you two disappear, so you'd be uprooting three lives. Think about that before you run away, okay?"

Oikawa laughed shortly, mumbled that he won't run. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he debated keeping up the charade or giving in; sometimes he hated that he had such caring and determined friends because it turned into quite a debacle when all he wanted to do was ignore his feelings and all they wanted to do was get in the way of that. Tilting his head, he stabbed at a few ice cubes and finally exhaled.

"No," he answered quietly at last. "…I'm not ready."

Hanamaki tilted his head. "Even though it's been ten years?"

"You know me, Makki," Oikawa mumbled and Hanamaki just nodded.

Oikawa wondered how things would have been if he'd lost only Iwaizumi or volleyball and not both; if he'd only lost volleyball, he'd have Iwaizumi to help him through it, and if he'd only lost Iwaizumi, all he'd have left was volleyball and he could almost definitely see himself finding some other way to spiral, pouring whiskey instead of his heart, trapped in his own mind and wasting all his potential.

It wasn't even a question which of the two scenarios made his chest ache more.

He heard Hanamaki say his name and hummed to show he was listening.

"I'll be okay, Makki. I won't run away this time, unless Iwa-chan decides to go get engaged again," Oikawa laughed, hoped Hanamaki was as pleased as he was that he could say that without vomiting.

Truthfully, Oikawa was surprised Hanamaki hadn't pressed this subject more. Maybe he was trying to perceive the truth because Oikawa couldn't be relied upon for honesty; if that were the case, though, he didn't think Hanamaki needed to perceive much. As demure as Oikawa could be, when he felt something as much as he did for Iwaizumi, he didn't just wear it on his sleeve; it was like an entire cape that wrapped around him. It was horridly, embarrassingly obvious and someone as close as Hanamaki _had_ to know immediately.

Hanamaki was silent again and Oikawa didn't have to look to know the type of expression pulling at his features. He took another sip of his coffee and dropped his gaze at Hanamaki's next question.

"…You love him, don't you?"

Oikawa set his drink down, smiled faintly. He'd commend Hanamaki for waiting this long to ask what Oikawa had realized he'd been thinking all this time.

His eyes cast towards the window, took a moment to just watch everyone who was passing by, wondered what their stories were, what they had yet to tell people, what they had yet to admit even to themselves. Oikawa was learning that people could look absolutely normal while hiding entire supernovas in their chest, himself included.

He looked back at Hanamaki, tilted his head and maintained the way he was smiling, warmed by something nestled so deeply in his heart that it felt like why it beat.

"I don't think I ever stopped."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! happy 11/11 and may this week be kind to you. i feel like it's fairly obvious that oikawa never stopped loving iwa, but here we have him finally admitting it so :) good job oikawa, you're really making headway with your emotions and we're all so proud of you
> 
> thank you for reading as always!! kudos/comments appreciated ♡


	14. clandestine meetings and stolen stares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he knew oikawa and oikawa knew him, and some things were larger than the universe and heavier than the truth.

_"So…" Matsukawa stared at Iwaizumi with a deadpan expression, "it's… a date."_

_Iwaizumi, who just spent ten minutes explaining to Matsukawa how this was not a date, sighed exasperatedly. "No. It's not a date."_

_Matsukawa stared at him with a strange expression, eyebrows twisted in a manner that Iwaizumi didn't appreciate. He brought a piece of licorice candy to his mouth, bit off a chunk and continued staring without blinking as he chewed._

_"People don't just go to the park by themselves to hang out," he said. "It's a date, Iwaizumi. Oikawa asked you on a date."_

_Iwaizumi glared, mumbled he didn't know how Matsukawa could willingly eat that stuff. He looked out the window, watched the ominous clouds fill the sky and distant streaks of lightning cast brief, brilliant shadows over the darkening Tokyo cityscape. He hoped Oikawa brought an umbrella with him to work today and considered texting him to be sure; if not, the hospital wasn't too far from the cafe he and Matsukawa were in, and Iwaizumi wouldn't mind swinging by to walk him home._

That _sounded like a date._

_Iwaizumi's arms crossed over his chest. "It's not a date because when he asked, he specifically said it wasn't a date. He just wanted to meet up there before Atsumu's session today."_

_Matsukawa laughed in a good-natured way that still had Iwaizumi scowling._

_"Oh, so we take Oikawa's words at face value now?"_

This was definitely a date, Iwaizumi thought, and regretted he didn't put on any cologne or wear a nicer shirt; who _cared_ if Atsumu would've asked why he was so dressed up? Iwaizumi certainly didn't dress the way Kuroo did or, honestly, the way that Oikawa did; because he was often helping out with practice, he'd generally wear his normal clothes to work. However, he couldn't help but feel like perhaps he should have worn something different from his polo and khakis, which already were a bit more formal than usual. Maybe he should have done something with his hair, he thought.

Oikawa had asked to meet at a small, family-owned ice cream place close to the park. Iwaizumi used to frequent this shop during college and even though Oikawa hadn't been in Tokyo for very long, either recently or after high school, he wasn't surprised for him to know about it, assuming he still pored over internet reviews. He could just imagine Oikawa, hunched over and dimly lit by just the glow of his computer screen as he had fifteen tabs of dessert places open on his computer well after midnight, cold cup of coffee long forgotten and chewing absentmindedly on his pen.

Granted, Oikawa was a fully fledged adult now, but some of his high school habits were more attributed to his base personality than his maturity level.

Iwaizumi usually took the subway to navigate around Tokyo and today was no different. The park was even closer to his apartment than the hospital and though he arrived early, Oikawa was _earlier_. Oikawa was punctual if he absolutely had to be, but chances were, he'd always be a bit late, usually ten or fifteen minutes at most. Iwaizumi knew this and worked this tardiness into meeting times, but that didn't stop him from being annoyed still.

However, if there was anything Oikawa would be early for, it would be ice cream.

Iwaizumi didn't even have to call out to him; Oikawa's chin raised when Iwaizumi swore his footsteps were still too far away to be heard. He found himself smirking in response to the way Oikawa beamed, pushed off the railing he'd been leaning against and pocketed his phone. Iwaizumi had been reaching into his pocket for his wallet out of sheer habit as he approached when Oikawa shook his head as they headed inside, told him it was his treat.

Iwaizumi was convinced he was joking all the way up until he watched him hand over his credit card and heard the transaction go through successfully.

_"Since when do you pay for your own food, much less mine?"_

_"I have a full-time job now, Iwa-chan."_

_"Yeah, but in high school I didn't. So what gives?"_

Even in the short walk from the cashier to the patio table, Iwaizumi had noticed the way Oikawa slightly favored his left leg. He tried not to make his lingering gaze too noticeable, but when he caught Oikawa's eye as they took a seat, he knew, even wordlessly, that Oikawa was fully aware of what he was doing. He gave a small smile and then looked away, cleared his throat and handed him one of the napkins, his silence conveying a request that of course Iwaizumi would honor.

Oikawa had some sort of insatiable sweet tooth and never actually exercised self control despite proclaiming to; and yet, he'd refuse to spend money on vanilla ice cream for himself. In high school, he'd always eaten Iwaizumi's because out of the four total scoops they usually had, three were ones they both liked. Iwaizumi generally always had vanilla and green tea, respectable and classic favors, and Oikawa usually let his current craving dictate one flavor, and then, for some horrible reason, always get mint chocolate as his second.

Always, without fail.

Iwaizumi, a normal person, did not like mint chocolate. Even when eating what non-cursed flavor he did choose, he made sure to not scrape from the side anywhere close to the abomination. Today, Oikawa had opted for black sesame as his one respectable choice. Iwaizumi liked vanilla for its dependability and green tea for how it was one of the less sweet flavors; an entire scoop of black sesame seemed like overkill, but he found himself staring at it, feeling a tickle in his throat. In the soft sun and warm late spring breeze, their ice cream was beginning to melt already and Iwaizumi was scraping along his vanilla when he heard Oikawa's voice.

"Does Iwa-chan want any?"

Flinching, Iwaizumi's eyes lifted, peripheral vision catching Oikawa's spoon reaching over and digging into his green tea while simultaneously nudging his own cup towards Iwaizumi. He hesitated and nodded, tentatively took a bit of the black sesame and waited until he saw Oikawa eat his spoonful before doing the same.

He accidentally caught his eye and when Oikawa smiled, his heart dropped.

Iwaizumi was a mature, rational adult, clearly knew the difference between infatuation and love, understood that heart dropping was something that was not literally possible and the sensation was often confined to the honeymoon phase of attraction.

However, he was fairly sure his heart literally dropped at least a little because Oikawa smiled in that charming, almost genuinely shy way. His shoulders came up and his head tilted and while this was a gesture he'd do often to be annoying, Iwaizumi could tell this was reflexive. He was being genuine and he was breathtaking and Iwaizumi was certain that his heart did _something_ in a very literal sense.

"I know what Iwa-chan's thinking," Oikawa said, reached over to scrape off some vanilla next and Iwaizumi glared, to which Oikawa laughed at without so much as glancing up. "This isn't a date."

"I-I know that," Iwaizumi returned a bit too quickly, dug an extra-large bite to try and cool the burn of his cheeks. As soon as the spoonful met his tongue, Iwaizumi immediately knew he was in danger. He tried to melt as much of it as he could, but in doing so, the coldness spread from his tongue to his cheeks and the roof of his mouth; he immediately winced at the onset of brain freeze, swearing quietly. Oikawa laughed, the sound light and annoying. Iwaizumi brought a hand to his face as he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, noting that, once again, whoever said that was a cure for brain freeze was a lying idiot.

When they had dated, they'd gotten ice cream together several times. However, because they did this so often as friends, it hadn't felt like anything special or out of the ordinary. The only time it felt really like a date was when Oikawa told Iwaizumi he had ice cream on his lips and then, without warning, leaned forward to lick it off with a wicked grin that Iwaizumi chased him for three blocks for.

(Admittedly, once he caught him, Iwaizumi then summoned the bravery to kiss Oikawa. Looking back, he realized this was one of the happiest instances he'd seen Oikawa in their eight month relationship.)

Oikawa, on some level, knew that Iwaizumi still had feelings for him. He never said it, they never alluded to it, nothing had implied it, but Iwaizumi knew it the way he knew Oikawa would show up in the café; he knew Oikawa and Oikawa knew him, and some things were larger than the universe and heavier than the truth. It was in the way Iwaizumi looked at him, the way he'd chastise him, the way he'd absentmindedly offer him his hand for balance, the way he'd hand him a tissue even before Oikawa actually sneezed, the way he'd look for Oikawa's favorites on the menu and bring them up before looking for himself, the way he always made sure to have a mug Oikawa casually mentioned as being his favorite washed and ready for him to use when he came over. These were the things that, if he'd done them in high school, he certainly didn't do them enough. These were the small reflexive actions that made it undeniable to anyone that Iwaizumi was still smitten with the number one asshole, devil-in-disguise himself.

In high school, it had been butterflies and somersaults, jolts and electricity. Iwaizumi had been in love with two people and had small crushes on a few others; between them, that honeymoon phase had always been the first indication of his feelings. Oikawa had been all he could think about; he'd occupy the forefront of his mind an embarrassingly large proportion of the time and Iwaizumi would find himself just staring at him with a racing heart. When Oikawa caught him looking, Iwaizumi would then throw the nearest soft object he could find.

They weren't in high school anymore, and they weren't teenagers anymore, but that wasn't the only reason why the butterflies and somersaults weren't his default. In high school, seeing Oikawa would instantly have his heart racing and palms sweaty. Now, if Iwaizumi saw him, he'd smile, but his heart would usually remain even and palms dry. However, there would be times where Oikawa would flutter his fingers over Iwaizumi's shoulders or smile at him in a certain way and he'd feel seventeen again, like his heart was trying to scamper out of his chest and chase Oikawa down to be with him forever.

What was different from high school was that even if Iwaizumi's heart beat rhythmically and his grip on various objects wouldn't be compromised, seeing Oikawa, being with Oikawa, remembering Oikawa brought a warmth to his chest. It was something so light and heavy at the same time, so airy and comforting. Oikawa was his home; he always had been and he always would be. If Iwaizumi was anxious, even just texting Oikawa would be enough. If Iwaizumi was upset, hearing Oikawa's voice would calm him down. Oikawa was his heart; he was who Iwaizumi wanted to come home to for the rest of his life, he was the person who Iwaizumi never felt any pressure around. He could be himself, wholly and truly so, and trust that Oikawa would accept him.

That, Iwaizumi thought, was what distinguished love from anything else.

Iwaizumi had spent countless nights trying to pinpoint what was different about Oikawa from anyone else, why, out of everyone, _this_ was the person for him. How after almost a decade of resentment and anger and hurt, Oikawa was still the person who coaxed Iwaizumi into smiling with just a grin after the worst of days, ease the knots in his chest with a stupid anecdote of his own, or render him breathless with just one look. How seeing Oikawa was a breath of fresh air in an ocean and the peaceful eye of a storm, when Oikawa had just as easily been the ocean and the storm. How it made no sense, none at all, but all Iwaizumi knew was how he felt and with Oikawa, he'd always trusted his heart.

Maybe it was that he'd been in love with him for almost half his life, maybe it was that they'd been friends for the majority of his life.

Or, maybe, it was because he was Oikawa and he was Iwaizumi and together they were dauntless.

There was no doubt in Iwaizumi's mind that Oikawa was his person and no matter what happened, whether they would ever be together again, that he would always be his person. The bond he had with him, the feelings he harbored for him weren't just a matter of being platonic or romantic. They were something that transcended something that could be so easily labeled, something that would draw their souls together because as long as they existed, Iwaizumi would always yearn for him. He couldn't explain where this certainty and confidence stemmed from; it was something that he felt in the very core of his being and knew it to be absolute and true, that no matter what happened, Oikawa would always have a place in his heart.

Iwaizumi wasn't one to be presumptuous and rely on his own assumptions, but he knew Oikawa, and so he knew how to read his actions. He could tell that Oikawa felt the same way to some extent, but, more importantly, he could tell that getting back together wasn't anywhere near the forefront of his mind.

It was the way he'd tease but back off quickly, the way he'd smile but drop his eyes, the way he wouldn't pull away from physical contact but also wouldn't linger. It was the way he'd take a moment to have to breathe again after being caught staring at Iwaizumi but then look away, the way he'd wordlessly send food to Iwaizumi at work or his apartment if Iwaizumi mentioned he hadn't gone grocery shopping and was too tired to cook but never once actually show up at his door, as he'd used to in high school. It was the way he would smile so warmly that it would break Iwaizumi's heart as if for the sole purpose of putting it back together, but then change the topic. Iwaizumi could tell and he understood; they'd hurt each other for almost a third of their lives and if it was between dating him and having him in his life, it wasn't even a choice. After all, this was what he'd expected in high school; even if they had romantic feelings for each other, if they tried to date and it didn't work, they would go back to being friends.

Iwaizumi may have underestimated just how painful that would be.

"This place has gotten some new flavors since I was last here in college," Iwaizumi said, tried to change the topic. Oikawa hummed and Iwaizumi silently watched him take another bite of mint chocolate, instinctively frowning. "…Can't believe _that_ one is still popular enough to be on the menu, though."

Oikawa wasn't fazed. He just tilted his head and smiled, waved his spoon in the air. "Mint chocolate is a delicacy, Iwa-chan."

"It's abhorrent," Iwaizumi snapped. A part of Iwaizumi was certain that Oikawa didn't actually particularly care for mint chocolate, but pretended to for the sole purpose of irking Iwaizumi. Unfortunately, it worked.

Oikawa kept smiling, maintained even and unwavering eye contact as he took another bite and wagged his eyebrows. Iwaizumi wrinkled his nose and used his spoon to tap Oikawa's away from his mouth, grumbled _idiot_ as he spooned more black sesame into his mouth. His spoon had just entrenched itself in the scoop yet again when Oikawa spoke again, his words gentle but leaving Iwaizumi's chest feeling frozen.

"You haven't been here recently? Not even with Himari-chan?"

Iwaizumi nearly kicked over their table. He stammered an apology, shaking hands tried to realign the cups to how they had been when he felt Oikawa's warm fingers over his, his voice murmuring, "Don't worry about it." Unable to stop himself, he looked up to see Oikawa take a moment to smile, breaking the sternness of his gaze. His expression was surprisingly relaxed, though Iwaizumi could see a flickering in his hazel eyes and he looked away because the only thing to supersede the chill that ran throughout his body was guilt.

Iwaizumi licked his lips, dropped his eyes and cleared his throat. "…N-no. Not recently."

His mind instantly began spinning in a way that only Oikawa could so casually cause. Iwaizumi wondered if Oikawa had planned on this, if he'd asked him here specifically to ask about Himari. Or maybe, he thought, Oikawa really was just making conversation and trying to tease their friendship back to how it always had been, when they'd talk about exes and crushes without batting an eye. Iwaizumi had no idea and grew frustrated when he still couldn't figure it out, even after mulling over Oikawa's behavior the entire morning.

Iwaizumi never had any secrets from Oikawa; while there were things he'd hesitate to admit if someone asked, if it was Oikawa, the words would roll off his tongue before his mind could process any doubt. To Oikawa, he was an open book because Iwaizumi trusted him, knew that nothing he said would be used against him and if Oikawa wanted something, Iwaizumi would do anything to grant it to him.

That being said, while Iwaizumi wouldn't lie about Himari if Oikawa asked, he knew that hearing about her could only hurt him and that was the last thing Iwaizumi ever wanted to do. So when he heard, "Iwa-chan, can I ask you something?" he frowned, felt dread swirling in his stomach. He licked his lips and lowered his spoon without meeting his eye.

"…It's never something good when you have to ask to ask it," Iwaizumi mumbled. He brought a hand up to rub tiredly at his face.

Oikawa could be shockingly blunt and direct, but it was almost always about someone else. When it came to himself, Oikawa would be more evasive and annoying than a fly; when they were in middle school, Iwaizumi would literally pin him down with his body to force answers out of him when he was frustrated. The only reason he didn't keep doing this constantly in high school was because if Oikawa was legitimately angry, he could and would just shove Iwaizumi off.

Iwaizumi was strong, but his ultimate weakness would always be Oikawa.

He didn't even have to know what the actual question was for him to have a bad feeling because it was apparent that he was about to ask about Himari. Even now, when he looked at Oikawa, he could see that his brow was slightly pinched and his lips were set to mask his discomfort and anxiety. For just a moment, seeing how distressed Oikawa was dispelled his own emotions because when Oikawa was visibly upset, all Iwaizumi cared about was reassuring him.

"You don't have to answer," Oikawa continued and Iwaizumi regarded him warily still. "In fact, you know, I'll make you the same deal I made Makki. If you answer honestly, you can ask _me_ anything and I'll answer honestly too."

Iwaizumi glared at him tiredly. Leaning back into the chair, he felt the curved back dig right into the spot beneath his shoulder blades uncomfortably, but relied on the sensation to keep him grounded. He crossed one arm over his chest, fingers curled loosely over his bicep. A free hand came up to rub the side of his nose as he exhaled, brow knit as he tried to quell the nerves coiling around his lungs. He opened his eyes but averted his gaze immediately and focused instead on a carefree dog lapping happily at a bowl of water set by the entrance, leash tied to a nearby post and he relaxed, immediately thought back to a time when he and Oikawa had been dog owners for three hours.

It was in elementary school; on their way home, they'd found a stray. Both of Iwaizumi's parents were home, but Oikawa's were out, leaving just his sister. While Iwaizumi distracted her, Oikawa snuck the dog into his room and Iwaizumi swiped some sausages under the guise of them being snacks for him and Oikawa. For three hours, they'd had a dog and they did a fairly good job; it peed on the floor only once and Oikawa didn't care at all, was too enamored with its floppy ears and fluffy fur.

Their ownership adventures came to an end when Iwaizumi opened the door to get more sausages and the dog bounded down the stairs, straight onto the kitchen counter, where Oikawa's sister had been baking cookies. She'd ended up taking both Iwaizumi and Oikawa's allowance money to buy some instead and when Oikawa wouldn't stop crying, eventually gave them the cookies and ate some fruit instead.

Iwaizumi exhaled and shook his head. "Just ask," he grumbled. "Even if I say no, you're going to stare until I say yes. I'm not Hanamaki, so I don't need that stupid deal."

"Iwa-chan's passing up the opportunity to guarantee an honest answer from me?" Oikawa asked with a small smile, tilting his head. When Iwaizumi glanced at him, he couldn't help but wonder if Oikawa's lips were cold from the ice cream and reflexively licked his own, tearing his gaze away. "Iwa-chan, you may have forgotten… but that's just about the only time you can really trust what I say, you know."

Iwaizumi didn't answer at first. He was still for just a moment longer and then a sigh moved his chest, slowly and deliberately. Leaning forward, his elbows pressed against the railings of the table. He kept his half-lidded eyes downcast and looked through the criss-cross patterns, focusing on the wrinkles in his pants. "…I don't want to think that anything you ever tell me is because you felt obligated to," he answered finally without looking at him. "And I trust you, Oikawa. I don't need any other reason other than the fact that you're you."

He raised his gaze and smiled slightly, lopsided curve tracing his lips and weary eyes focusing on Oikawa. "So go ahead and ask whatever you're going to ask. Stop wasting time."

Oikawa stared at him. Up until now, his expression had been laced with feigned confidence but in just this moment, Iwaizumi could see a smile flickering through his eyes and curling of his lips, gaze softening. Oikawa looked away—shyly, he thought, he seemed shy and that had Iwaizumi's breath hitching—and cleared his throat. He kept his gaze averted and drummed his fingers along the table. "…Himari-chan," he said quietly and paused, took a deep breath. "…Um, I…"

"Hold on," Iwaizumi interrupted gently. Oikawa looked up in surprise, movement quick and sudden, and Iwaizumi offered the same slight smile to try and relax him. "Oikawa, I'll tell you anything you want to know, but… I don't want to hurt you. And no matter what you're asking and why, no matter what I say, it'll hurt you, so are you sure?"

Oikawa blinked a few times; there it was again, Iwaizumi thought, the way his façade would drop for a moment to show a glimmer of embarrassment and he was so utterly charmed by this rare show of honesty that it was almost enough to distract him from the knot of nerves in his chest. Oikawa bit on his lip and nodded once, slowly but deliberately. Iwaizumi watched him pull his hand back and into his lap.

"…I spent ten years avoiding answers because I was afraid of the pain," Oikawa answered with a small smile. His gaze raised to meet Iwaizumi's and the smile widened, stole Iwaizumi's breath away as Oikawa inhaled. "I'll be all right. If you're not comfortable talking about this, it's fine, but if you're worried about me, you don't have to."

He stared at him and for a moment, Iwaizumi couldn't believe that this was Oikawa. This honest, straightforward person was Oikawa Tooru and if anyone had doubts if someone could change, this was a prime example of it being possible. This wasn't the sort of change that happened naturally as the years passed; this was something that Oikawa had to have knowingly worked towards, shed years of comfort and safety, all in the earnest pursuit of becoming braver and Iwaizumi felt a swell of pride.

He licked his lips and nodded, couldn't help but smile to himself. "…All right, then," he said quietly. "Looks like you ended up maturing after all, Shittykawa."

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, heard Oikawa laugh quietly and immediately follow with a small whine. He leaned back and took a deep breath, looked at the small handwritten sign propped by the entrance advertising the daily specials. "Like I said, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. So go ahead."

When Oikawa had asked if he wanted to spend the morning before Atsumu's session together, Iwaizumi sat up so quickly in bed that he hit his head against the wall which, given all Iwaizumi had to do was sit _straight_ up, was a feat in itself. He'd rubbed the sore spot on his temple as he replied _sure, what do you have in mind?_ and was grateful that texting risked no chance of including wavers in his voice. He'd taken the morning off, his chores finally piling up to the point where they were becoming hard to ignore. Iwaizumi was generally a clean person, so what he considered messy (a seventy percent full garbage, few unopened letters and packages, not having wiped down his counters or vacuumed in a bit over a week) was likely passable to most people, but it wasn't to _him_.

In all honesty, he'd been spending almost all of his free time with Oikawa, pushed himself even when he was so exhausted that when he came home, he only had enough energy to shower and collapse in bed. And yet, whenever Oikawa asked if he wanted to hang out, he always said yes because it seemed that even when Iwaizumi felt like his body had been depleted of all energy, if Oikawa asked him to jump, all he'd ask would be _like this?_ after already landing.

If they hadn't been spending the majority of their free nights together every week, Iwaizumi would have wondered if Oikawa wanted to discuss matters relating to work; like with Sakusa, they would occasionally discuss Atsumu's progress and next steps. However, while he was treating Sakusa, they hadn't been on good terms, and that was the obvious source of the terseness of their messages. Right now, though, they were friends again; they'd fallen back so easily in a pattern they knew for more than half their lives, and so it was clear to Iwaizumi when Oikawa would still be stilted at times. Atsumu was the exact type of person Oikawa loved to gossip about, and yet he didn't talk about him as much as Iwaizumi expected him to; even when Iwaizumi gave him obvious openings (like revealing some of Atsumu's more embarrassing blunders during practice), Oikawa would offer one or two remarks before changing topics.

Once Iwaizumi confirmed that Oikawa was actively avoiding having to think or talk about Atsumu more than he had to, it was glaringly obvious why. Iwaizumi wanted to broach the subject; he hadn't been there for him ten years ago and he would absolutely be there this time, but, with Oikawa, timing was key and no matter what Iwaizumi wanted, he'd never prioritize his own desires over Oikawa's. He'd spent a decade avoiding talking about his knee; there was no way he would immediately be ready to open up about it now.

Iwaizumi had spent countless hours debating with himself over whether or not to ask, thought of times in high school when he was this conflicted. So many years had passed and at first, he thought that those memories might not be reliable; deciding when to push Oikawa had never been this difficult, but there had also never been _this_ much at stake. On top of that, Iwaizumi still wondered just how much changed in the last nine years and if he could still rely on his instinct.

And then he remembered that Oikawa had shown up at the café. He'd shown up, horribly late as always, but he had shown up without promising to, looking flushed and honest and nervous but he was there. Oikawa was still kind, he still drank too much overly sweet coffee, he still cared way too much about his appearance, he still cracked stupid jokes, he still laughed too hard at his stupid jokes, he still had that one dimple when he was grinning widely enough; Oikawa was still Oikawa and so Iwaizumi decided that just like when they were in high school, he'd wait and rely on his gut to know when to ask him.

He'd trust in both himself and Oikawa because he'd always, always believed that if they were together, everything would be okay.

Oikawa stared at him for several moments, the sound of a small exhale the only evidence he'd been holding his breath. He graced Iwaizumi with one last lopsided smile before averting his eyes. Iwaizumi saw how his fingers came up to tease a napkin and start ripping at the edges; he licked his lips three times in the past twenty seconds and even though his heart clenched, Iwaizumi's gaze couldn't help but soften as he watched him because it wasn't often that Oikawa would be visibly nervous but when he was, Iwaizumi couldn't help but want to protect him.

"Himari-chan," he said and cleared his throat, "you… you were…"

Iwaizumi sighed. It was a quiet sigh, so soft he hadn't intended for Oikawa to hear it, but he jolted and Iwaizumi apologized in a low voice. "I met her in college," he started, spared Oikawa having to ask a question he was barely ready to hear the answer for. "We were friends for a while, then we dated. I proposed to her," Iwaizumi said and knit his brow. "But things went south… they'd been going south for a while and the night we met again was the night she finally dumped me."

He dug his fingers into his arms and leaned forward, elbows feeling the metal patterns of the table dig into his bare skin. "I was in love with her," he said, so quietly he almost hoped that Oikawa wouldn't hear it, "which is why I proposed."

It was something so obvious that Oikawa knew it already, but Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa asked because he needed to hear it directly from him.

He could hear the way Oikawa swallowed and Iwaizumi immediately closed his eyes, couldn't risk even accidentally stealing a glance at Oikawa's expression as he waited for him to say something. He'd volunteer as much information as Oikawa wanted but even if he'd said he wasn't going to avoid his fears anymore, this felt like something that could sever the connection they'd recently repaired. Although they were friends again, the truth of the matter was that for Oikawa, the pain from ten years ago had been frozen for almost a decade and wouldn't be processed in just a few weeks.

Iwaizumi had spent the better part of that decade just recovering from the pain. He'd been so hesitant to date Himari because of how badly his breakup with Oikawa had hurt him and in the weeks— _months_ , really—following their break up, Iwaizumi barely remembered anything. But he'd survived it; he'd managed to shoulder everything and survive, feeling like he'd lost a part of himself until he was reunited with Oikawa, but he had survived.

Oikawa, though, didn't seem to have had a chance to go through that and Iwaizumi was afraid that this would be the catalyst for it. It would be ideal if he never had to, if somehow, them being friends was enough to soothe over the jagged tears that had ripped Iwaizumi apart. If there was any way that Iwaizumi could guarantee Oikawa didn't have to feel the extent of what he'd had to, he would do it in a heartbeat.

But some pain had to be felt to recover from.

"…Then why did she dump you?" Oikawa asked, voice holding only the faintest of quivers. "You're… a good person, I don't see why she'd…"

Iwaizumi looked up with a tired smile. "You broke up with me too, you know," he answered gently. "I try my best, but… I seem to always hurt the person who's most important to me."

Oikawa didn't answer. Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair and moved his hands to inside his pockets, focused his eyes on some weeds sprouting between the cement slabs of the sidewalk. "I fell out of love with her," Iwaizumi explained and shrugged. "That's… all I can say. I've only had two relationships and looking back, what I learned from ours… it helped me realize what I felt for Himari and to show how much I cared for her."

He didn't have to look to know what Oikawa felt to hear that.

"What I learned from my relationship with her… was how it feels to stop loving someone in the way where I want to marry them," Iwaizumi continued in a low voice, knitting his brow. "And maybe this isn't fair of me to say because… I know what a broken heart feels like. Well—" he cleared his throat, "I know what _my_ broken heart felt like and it… sucked. But falling out of love with her… it was something so gradual that I didn't realize it until it was too late. I stopped going the extra mile for her or if I did, it wasn't something that came to mind as naturally as it used to. I thought it was a rut, but…"

Iwaizumi licked his lips and shrugged again. "It wasn't. She knew before I did and I think she hoped that I'd realize it, but… I didn't, and she dumped me. Rightfully so."

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he finally slated his gaze back to Oikawa. His eyes were averted, but the way he was biting his lip was obvious and it took everything for Iwaizumi to resist reaching out for him. Clenching his own into fists in his pockets, he took a deep breath. "It was the only time I ever fell out of love with someone," he said and Oikawa's head immediately jerked, eyes wide as he stared. Iwaizumi smiled ruefully. "I still care about her and wish that I didn't hurt her, the way I wish I didn't hurt you."

He shrugged.

"Is there anything else you want to know?"

Oikawa's cheeks were sprinkled pink, but it didn't ease the flickering in his eyes. He looked away again and cleared his throat, knitting his brow and shook his head when Iwaizumi murmured his name. "I-I'm okay," he said, voice about as reassuring as Iwaizumi tolerated mint chocolate ice cream.

Iwaizumi frowned.

"…But you're hurt."

Oikawa faltered and when he gazed back at him, the way he smiled shattered Iwaizumi into smithereens. It left his heart lurching and fingers twitching, desperate to kiss him, to do anything so that he'd stop looking so…

 _Sad_.

He looked so sad and it was different from when Iwaizumi had caught him outside the café. It felt so much closer to being final this time; it felt like everything was falling into place, and this wasn't a piece that Iwaizumi wanted to have a home.

"It's not your fault," Oikawa said softly. "I asked and knew that whatever you said, it wouldn't…"

He trailed off and shook his head. "Did you ever think about us?" he asked and glanced at him. "While you were dating her?"

"Of course," Iwaizumi mumbled. "You were my best friend and the first person I ever…"

He paused and cleared his throat. "It wasn't until recently that I realized exactly how and why I was a terrible boyfriend to you, but… yeah, I'd think of you. Not necessarily our relationship and comparing it to her, but no matter how hard I tried, you'd pop into my head. We'd get ice cream, I'd remember you liked mint chocolate. We'd go on a trip, I'd remember the time you forgot to pack clothes and stole mine. We'd just be watching a movie, I'd remember how deep you get into your analysis."

Iwaizumi faltered again and sighed. "…You were a huge part of my life, Oikawa," he said quietly. "A breakup and losing our friendship never changed that. Even when I was pissed at you, I could never deny just how ingrained you are in my memories. She wasn't a replacement for you and the fact that we broke up while I proposed to her… it doesn't say anything about how much you mean to me. I was an idiot when I dated you. I was still an idiot when I dated her, but…"

He shook his head. Oikawa meant so much to Iwaizumi that he couldn't put it into his words and so when he wanted to express it to him, it left him frustrated beyond belief. He knew that actions spoke louder than words but, right now, there was no time for that; he needed Oikawa to know immediately just how deeply Iwaizumi cared for him because he could see now the flickering doubt starting to shadow over him.

"No one could ever come close to being what you are to me," he said. "Not back then, not now, not ever. I grew up with you by my side, you're a huge part of why I am who I am. Okay?"

Oikawa smiled faintly, nodded.

"…Okay."

He started to stand and Iwaizumi immediately followed, brow knit because something was brewing in his eyes. Of course Oikawa was comparing their relationships in his head and himself against Himari; Iwaizumi wouldn't be surprised if he'd done a quick internet search on her because that was the kind of person Oikawa was. If he'd continued playing volleyball, he would have undoubtedly become nothing short of a celebrity and Oikawa would definitely be the type of person to have secret social media accounts to engage with his fans. Oikawa could do reconnaissance on someone more quickly than it took Iwaizumi to open his emails, and Iwaizumi wasn't _that_ bad with technology.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa had been surprised to learn that Iwaizumi had proposed; they hadn't said it, but he knew they were thinking about how catastrophically his last relationship had ended and his second had resulted in an engagement. Iwaizumi didn't have a good reason for why he did what he did; he did what his heart was telling him to and during their relationship, he'd loved Himari enough to want to spend his life with her. Even though he couldn't believe that such strong feelings changed without him realizing, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they existed truly and surely.

But, Iwaizumi learned, love wasn't finite and just because he'd wanted to marry her didn't lessen what he felt now for Oikawa. He wanted to spend his life with him; Iwaizumi wanted to spend his _next_ life with him, he wanted to spend everything by Oikawa's side. He loved him in a way that was almost sickeningly cruel to fit into just one existence because the way Iwaizumi loved Oikawa was a supernova and he wished that he could tell him that.

But he couldn't and so Oikawa would just be lost in his own thoughts, have to trust the word of someone who had hurt him so badly he'd cut himself off for ten years.

"You know, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said in a low voice as they started to leave, throwing out their empty cups and crumpled up napkins into a nearby trash can, "I have this… friend."

Iwaizumi nodded, hands in his pockets. It was a fifteen minute walk to the hospital from where they were and though he'd been favoring his good leg earlier, he seemed to be fine now, or the slower than usual pace was hiding his limp. Iwaizumi kept an eye on him, nonetheless; no matter how short the walk was, if his knee seemed to be bothering him again, Iwaizumi would call a car, concern for Oikawa easily outweighing any judgment of the driver.

Oikawa cleared his throat. "And he… ah, well, he dated someone. It wasn't a very long relationship, but it meant a lot to him and when it ended… it devastated him."

Iwaizumi tensed because even if he'd had a feeling that Oikawa wasn't really talking about a friend, this just confirmed it. He knit his brow and nodded again. "…All right."

"And then the person he dated… they started dating someone else after they broke up and that relationship was pretty serious."

Iwaizumi felt like he was about to throw up, but he managed to nod, fingers twisting behind his back. Oikawa had done this before; out of ten situations where he had to be vulnerable, he'd talk maybe twice. And of those two times, there was about a ninety five percent chance that he would talk about a supposed _friend_ because detaching himself from what he said, no matter how obvious it was, made it just a little easier. Iwaizumi guessed this habit stemmed from childhood, when Oikawa would blame his messes on someone else; once he realized this was a viable way to avoid admitting responsibility, he'd started using the tactic more often. Unfortunately for Iwaizumi, who knew almost everything about him, he saw through the deception every time and while other people would really think he was asking for advice on behalf of a friend, Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa was the one who had doodled on himself with permanent marker.

Iwaizumi would normally be annoyed at yet another display of Oikawa's evasive tendencies, but right now he cared far more about the fact that Oikawa felt so strongly he was actually pushing himself to address it, even if in a roundabout manner.

"He's not mad," Oikawa continued in a mumble, voice straining and shoulders rounding. "About the person dating again, I mean. It's only natural. He's just…"

Oikawa stopped walking and it took Iwaizumi two steps to realize it. It was only two steps, two normal sized paces, and yet when he turned around, Oikawa's eyes were glassy as he looked at him, tears brimming along his lower lash line, a wobbling smile perched on his lips and Iwaizumi's breath leaving his lungs in the worst way possible.

He actually took a small step forward before he'd realized it, stopped because the only thing that could halt his natural instinct was if Oikawa shook his head.

"He's not mad," Oikawa repeated, voice shaking, mumbling an apology as he brought the back of his hand to his eyes, "he's just—he's just—"

"Oikawa—"

Oikawa shook his head again and took a step back. Even though it went against every instinct, Iwaizumi nodded stiffly and stayed where he was, wondered if the aching in his chest reflected in his eyes. They'd taken a less traveled path, but it was still almost lunch time on a weekday; people walked around them, cast them concerned looks and Iwaizumi didn't even care that some people glared at him, as if he was the reason why Oikawa was crying.

He was, after all.

He hadn't meant to; he never meant to hurt Oikawa, but he was crying right now because of what Iwaizumi said and he didn't think any apology could suffice. Oikawa's shoulders shook with the effort of repressed sobs and he wiped at his eyes again, hands shaking. "He… he just can't help but think _what if_ and _why_ … what if they'd never broken up, why what they had wasn't enough, how he thought this person was his endgame and not only did they break up, that person… that person was going to marry someone else.

"He knows it's not fair to feel this way and it's not that he didn't think this person wasn't capable of love… but it's that they were able to recognize their feelings at the right time with someone else, so why not him? Why not them? What was it about him that…"

Oikawa's trembling voice cut off with a hiccup. Iwaizumi dropped his eyes, but it was only after he caught sight of how red and puffy his eyes were, how his brow was knit so deeply and heartache etched so clearly over his features. "…He's never thought that he was enough," Oikawa said in a tight, wobbling voice, his next inhale staggered as well, "but the person he was with… he thought that, at the very last, he'd always be enough for him."

Iwaizumi's chest seized and he inhaled sharply, felt like something collided straight-on with his chest to hear that. "Oikawa—"

"But I guess in the end, he wasn't," Oikawa continued and looked at Iwaizumi with a glass smile that spiderwebbed and devastated him.

To Iwaizumi, there were only a handful of times where it felt like time stopped:

When Oikawa said he wanted to break up.

When Oikawa smirked so cruelly at him at that fateful volleyball match.

When Oikawa showed up at the café.

And this was the fourth.

Iwaizumi didn't know how much time passed, just knew that in between the time he exhaled and Oikawa looked away, he didn't breathe once. His lungs ached once he finally allowed air into them again, slowly lowering his gaze as Oikawa sidestepped him and took two steps until they were side to side. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to dump all that on you," he said quietly. "We should keep moving—"

Oikawa cut off as soon as Iwaizumi's hand was on his wrist, still not having turned. He could just barely feel Oikawa's heartbeat against his palm if he concentrated enough. Iwaizumi licked his lips because he didn't know what to say, felt like an apology would just be an excuse and any explanation would just hurt more. Oikawa had stopped walking immediately and while he didn't say anything, he also didn't make an effort to pull away. Iwaizumi took a deep breath and closed his eyes, fingers curled around Oikawa's soft skin.

He hated hurting Oikawa. Iwaizumi was known for his honesty but even despite that, if it was harmless and for the sake of protecting someone's feelings, he'd fib. He'd told his coworker that his shirt was fine because he didn't have anything else to wear to a date; he'd told Bokuto that, yes, he did look cool when he spiked and congratulated himself; he'd told Himari that if she wanted to, he would be entirely fine with getting a pet snake.

Oikawa had always been the person he'd never lied to. When Oikawa asked if he looked good, if he didn't, Iwaizumi told him so. If Oikawa asked if Iwaizumi agreed with what he was doing, if he didn't, he'd call him an idiot. He never wanted to lie to Oikawa and he'd never had to, because Oikawa never asked something that put him in the position to choose between lying or hurting him.

But asking about Himari was something that would wound him so deeply and something that he couldn't lie about; not only would Oikawa see through it, it felt like a disservice to both his relationship to Himari and to his bond with Oikawa. Oikawa was strong; he would be able to handle the truth and process it, but that didn't mean that Iwaizumi was fine with being why he was crying.

"…It wasn't a matter of you being enough because if that was all that mattered, we would still be together," Iwaizumi said quietly. He swallowed thickly. "If feelings were all it took, they'd have been enough, I think. But it's never that easy and it's never that simple, and…"

He trailed off and turned his head, saw Oikawa keep his gaze focused straightforward, but jaw tense. "…I don't know how much this means, but… I'm sorry, Oikawa. For everything, I'm…"

He dropped his gaze.

"…I'm sorry."

He fell silent and still, only moved his fingers when he felt Oikawa pull his wrist back. The quiet thrum of sadness threading along his skin was a feeling he was being too acquainted with, Iwaizumi thought, and something he saw too often from Oikawa. He wished he could take everything Oikawa was feeling and harbor it within himself because for Oikawa, he would absolutely be willing to drown in misery if it meant that he wouldn't. He'd caused all of this, Iwaizumi thought numbly; from when they broke up to now, everything that had crushed Oikawa could be traced back to him and even if he logically knew it wasn't entirely his fault, logic could never hold a flame to the emotional response of what he felt for the person crying next to him.

He heard another sniffle, followed quickly by a cough. Iwaizumi bit his lip and curled his fingers to keep from grabbing Oikawa and hugging him until his arms ached and he couldn't breathe because that was all he wanted to do, but knew that absolutely wasn't what Oikawa wanted right now.

"We should get a move on," Oikawa said at last and Iwaizumi nodded stiffly. He turned and they began to walk again silently, farther apart than they'd been walking earlier. Every step he took felt like it jostled the broken pieces nestled in his chest, drove the edges between his ribs and into his lungs. Iwaizumi's fists clenched so tightly in his pockets he expected blood to be drawn and it was only when they reached the hospital doors that Oikawa spoke again, looked up with a small smile.

"Thank you, Iwa-chan," he said. "Really, I know you feel bad and I'm sorry I cried, but…" he sighed and shook his head. "…It was kind of cathartic. I didn't think…"

He took a breath and shrugged. "I'm not sure what I thought because looking back, of course… hearing that would be a lot. I don't know why I thought this was a good talk to have right before work. I just wanted closure, but I didn't think that after ten years, it would still hurt this much."

Oikawa stepped towards Iwaizumi and for a brief exhilarating moment, Iwaizumi thought it was on purpose. It was, but he realized it was because Oikawa had been blocking someone's way.

The way he lingered before stepping away was also on purpose, though.

"Closure," Iwaizumi echoed and Oikawa nodded. He licked his lips, felt his next inhale drive the shards deeper into his lungs. "…Did it help?"

Oikawa was silent for a moment and when he looked up, it was with a smile that held the same fatigue his eyes did. "It did, actually. Hearing about how much you…" he faltered and cleared his throat. "I'm glad that you were able to be happy with someone else, Iwa-chan. Honestly. It felt like I was in a limbo but… if you were able to move on, then I think I will be too. I'm glad we're friends again." He smiled again, too perfectly and too suddenly. "Ready to go inside?"

Iwaizumi nodded mutely. Despite being lost in his thoughts, he still quickened his steps to be able to hold the door open for Oikawa, nodded again when he thanked him. The two of them traced a familiar path through the main lobby and hallways to the room. Iwaizumi had helped Oikawa to set up numerous times by now and so when Oikawa asked if he'd be all right on his own for a bit, he gave his third nod, still not having said a word.

It was only when the door closed behind Oikawa that Iwaizumi's lips parted for the first time since entering the hospital with a shaky exhale that felt like they rattled his ribs against each other. Shaking legs were grateful when he took a seat on a bench and Iwaizumi leaned forward, face buried in his hands and elbows digging into his knees.

Another sigh breathed into existence past his lips, this time strangled and leaving a hollowness in its wake.

Iwaizumi had told himself over and over again that they were just friends, that dating wasn't even on the horizon, and yet, wondered why hearing the word _closure_ made him want to fold in on himself and disappear entirely.

* * *

Bringing a frozen bag of broccoli into the bathroom might have been the strangest thing any of Oikawa's coworkers had ever seen him do, but he didn't care.

He'd briefly nodded to them upon entering the lounge, immediately making a beeline to the refrigerator. Oikawa was normally chipper; he was the one to strike up conversation and though the small, still rational part of his mind appreciated that even his quieter coworkers tried to ask if he was all right, he was about two thoughts of Iwaizumi away from crying again. After yanking open the freezer and grabbing the vegetables, he offered a shaky smile, assured he was all right, and left, immediately veering into the nearest bathroom.

Taking a deep breath and covering the bag with some paper towels to lessen the shock against the thin skin, he pressed the coldness to his closed eyes, other hand grasping the edge of the sink. He still had about half an hour before Atsumu's session and when Oikawa heard the door open, he hurried into a stall before yet another colleague could ask if he was all right because he absolutely wasn't, and Oikawa was just about at his lying quota for the day.

He'd thought he would be ready to ask about Himari from Iwaizumi but forgot that with Iwaizumi, everything was amplified. The love he felt was all consuming and the anger he felt was all encompassing, so it was only natural that the hurt he felt was all engrossing. Oikawa had never been someone to ease into things; he spent years avoiding admitting how he really felt and it seemed only natural that fewer than ten weeks into a rekindled friendship, he dove straight into the exact opposite. Looking back, it was a horrible decision, the way he'd look back to how he threw himself into training and ruined his knee.

Hindsight was painfully clear.

He couldn't say if he had a clear, rational reason to ask about Himari, or if it was his own sick curiosity. Iwaizumi had proposed to her. Iwaizumi had almost married her. It had been easier to digest when Oikawa was still deluded by his own anger because it was one thing to be angry at an ex; it was another to be broken over an ex. Iwaizumi had really, truly loved her and Oikawa wasn't bothered by that, or by the way he fell out of love with her so quietly that he didn't realize it. He wasn't upset by Iwaizumi moving on, he wasn't upset by Iwaizumi meeting someone new. He wasn't perturbed by Iwaizumi being happy with someone else, he wasn't perturbed by Iwaizumi continuing to live his life.

He was heartbroken because for some reason, the timing and the feelings of Iwaizumi's relationship with Himari had been _enough_ while their relationship hadn't. Oikawa loved Iwaizumi in a way that brought air into his lungs when he couldn't breathe, traced feeling along his skin when he was numb, lit his vision with color when everything was monochrome. He loved Iwaizumi in a way that made life lively; to Oikawa, everything felt like it was either for Iwaizumi or bettered by Iwaizumi. He loved him in a way that brought a spring into his step, whether it was towards or away from Iwaizumi because to Oikawa, if Iwaizumi told him to run, he'd ask how fast. For Iwaizumi, Oikawa would ruin himself a million little times, even if Iwaizumi didn't ask because to him, he wanted his happiness above everything else.

And yet, all of _that_ still wasn't enough, but something about Himari was and he couldn't help but feel destroyed by the realization. Iwaizumi didn't owe him his love or dedication, and Oikawa more than understood that. He wasn't angry at Iwaizumi, but he couldn't help but wonder _why._ Maybe it was timing; Oikawa Tooru was a hopeless romantic who wondered why the universe would give him so much love for someone for it to be reciprocated only after it had taken everything away from him. Hypotheticals filled his lungs instead of air and he was grasping the bag so tightly he could feel frozen broccoli breaking beneath the plastic, as he willed the pressure to the back of his eyes to mellow.

Oikawa felt absolutely helpless because he'd given Iwaizumi everything and it hadn't been enough, and he didn't know what else he could do. Iwaizumi had always been his pillar; their relationship had been what kept him motivated and influenced him into becoming who he was today, and to have that foundation of trust and confidence shaken left Oikawa unsure of absolutely everything else. Oikawa had doubted whether he was enough for everyone and everything, except Iwaizumi. The fact that Oikawa hadn't been enough for Iwaizumi to realize the true extent of his feelings hurt more than the initial breakup had because what Iwaizumi explained at the café made sense and at the time, it had been enough.

But today, hearing about how much he'd loved Himari, thinking back to how they'd ended, Oikawa couldn't help the influx of hurt that logic couldn't tamper; he understood _why_ Iwaizumi hadn't pushed him to stay together, but wondered why Oikawa hadn't been enough for them to never have to reach that point.

After ten years of allowing himself only to feel the anger, the onslaught of pain was suffocating. Even if he tried to indulge himself slowly, it still seized his throat and immobilized his lungs. It wasn't Iwaizumi's fault at all; he'd processed how he felt and moved on, that was the logical thing. It was Oikawa's own decision to repress everything, leaving him in a position where he had to come to terms with their breakup _and_ Iwaizumi moving on and almost getting married in the same breath.

Feeling tears press to the back of his eyes, Oikawa stifled his sob until he heard the door close again. Once the loud thud echoed through the washroom, he gasped and lowered the broccoli, glared tiredly and pressed to see just how melted it was. After spending a few minutes reshaping it, he opened the stall and shakily walked back to the sink, favoring his left leg with a trembled sigh. Once he was close enough, both hands grasped the sink after leaving the bag on a ledge and winced, shifted all his weight to his good leg.

His knee had been bothering him, undoubtedly because of his extra long workouts. After he caught Iwaizumi noticing while they were getting their ice cream, he'd been careful to suppress it as well as he could. Iwaizumi always had a razor-sharp eye for detail, but Oikawa couldn't blame him for not noticing when he was crying. Walking to the hospital certainly didn't help matters, nor did constantly leaning more weight onto his right knee than he was supposed to. He could still walk, but it was becoming harder to not wince while doing so.

Sniffling one more time, he inhaled, mumbled _you're okay_ over and over as he cupped his hands beneath the faucet. He splashed the cool water onto his face and patted himself dry with a paper towel; when he looked up in the mirror, he scrutinized his face. His eyes were still red and puffy, but it was something he could pass off as allergies; Atsumu was the type of person to ask, but Iwaizumi definitely wouldn't expose him.

Oikawa took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. Before opening them, he straightened and pulled his shoulders back so that when he looked at himself in the mirror, it was the professional Oikawa Tooru.

"You're okay," he said quietly.

Even he didn't believe himself.

Nonetheless, he gave a nod and forced a smile, grimaced afterwards. He picked up the broccoli and pulled open the door, strode as confidently as he could through the hallways. When he was certain he was in an area Iwaizumi wouldn't be wandering, he allowed his slight limp. The lounge had cleared out, which he was grateful for, and he tossed the broccoli back in the freezer.

Turning, he then returned to the room that he'd left Iwaizumi in; as he drew closer, he took care to hide his limp, though it resulted in his steps slowing. Once he reached the door, he quietly pressed a palm against the wood, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply. He counted backwards from ten and once _zero_ formulated in his mind, his hand moved to the handle. Fingers curled around the cool metal, flexed just once before pushing the door open.

Iwaizumi wasn't in direct eyesight from the door, yet that was where Oikawa's eyes immediately went. Similarly, Iwaizumi instantly looked up to see him, lips still moving as he finished whatever he was saying to Atsumu and Oikawa thought it entirely fitting that today was the _one_ time he was early.

"Hey. You okay?" Iwaizumi asked and Oikawa smiled faintly, nodded.

"Fine, thanks," he answered, then looked at Atsumu with a more symmetrical smile. "Hi, Tsumu-chan."

"Yer late!" Atsumu glared and Oikawa wrinkled his nose. He craned his neck towards the nearest clock.

"I actually have seven minutes, but good for you for being early."

He heard Iwaizumi reprimand Atsumu. Oikawa turned and winced for a moment; under the guise of adjusting his brace, he massaged his knee as best he could. When he turned around, he was glad to see Iwaizumi and Atsumu still bickering with each other. He picked up the clipboard on the table and walked over, steps even but slow. As soon as Oikawa was close enough, Iwaizumi's gaze was on him, frowning lightly. "Sorry, he's being extra annoying today."

Oikawa laughed. "You're talking about him like a pet to a veterinarian… which, I suppose, isn't the worst of metaphors."

"Oi, I'm right'ere!"

"Atsumu, shut up."

"Iwaizumi-san, stop defendin' him!" Atsumu retorted, then turned sharply to Oikawa, eyes narrowing and chin tilting upwards. "And why're yer eyes red?"

"Allergies," Oikawa answered coolly with a briefer-than-usual smile. He detoured to pick up the exercise bands he kept on the table and headed over, pulled up a chair and couldn't help a small wince as he sat down. "How's your knee feeling?"

"Are you all right?" came Iwaizumi's voice, quiet and concerned. Oikawa flashed him the same short smile and nodded, didn't linger eye contact longer than he had to.

"Yes," he said succinctly and turned to Atsumu. "Tsumu-chan?" he prompted.

Atsumu glared at him warily, folding his arms over his chest. Oikawa felt a lip twitch, and it wasn't because of a threatened smile; he dropped his eyes to the clipboard in his lap, pretended that he needed to review some information. He could tell that Atsumu was more impatient than usual from the moment he walked in; Oikawa didn't know why and didn't care, but realized now that hoping for him to put aside his feelings and be mature was a tall order for Miya Atsumu. In the back of his mind, he'd always expected this, but had hoped that Atsumu would prove him wrong.

"Ya know, Oikawa-san, you'd have more credibility if you'd at least acknowledge yer knee that's obviously actin' up, ya know," Atsumu said snidely. "Should I really be listenin' to ya?"

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa murmured without looking up, kept his gaze focused on his files. "Defend me."

He could hear Iwaizumi's sharp inhale. "I—you can't just tell me—"

A pause, followed by a sigh.

"…Atsumu, stop it. Just listen to him."

Oikawa smiled genuinely for the first time that afternoon and Atsumu's glare hardened, but he did notice that he didn't offer any rebuttal, just nodded when Oikawa asked if it was okay to extend his knee. Palm supporting the back of his calf firmly, Oikawa slowly raised his leg, darted his eyes to Atsumu's expression. "Is this all right?"

"Fine," Atsumu answered curtly and narrowed his eyes. His frown deepened and Oikawa saw Iwaizumi sigh, bring a hand up to his face. "What's with ya today? Allergies got yer knee actin' up too?"

There had been a few times where Atsumu almost pushed Oikawa to the brink of snapping. Most of those instances had been early on, before Iwaizumi started attending. With Iwaizumi here, it was easier for Oikawa to be distracted because that was the nature of their relationship:

If Iwaizumi was there, Oikawa could breathe just a little easier.

Treating Atsumu had always been hard for Oikawa; even on the days where it was easier, it was still hard. It was infuriating to be treating someone with _his_ injury, playing _his_ position on the team that would've been _his_ goal to join. To top it all of, Miya Atsumu was, objectively, _annoying as hell to deal with_. There were times where Oikawa appreciated his bluntness, would rather that than someone so afraid of offending or upsetting him, but most of the time, he just found his personality grating.

It just felt so incredibly unfair.

He'd never lost his temper, but he knew that Atsumu could tell he was close. There was only one time where he kept pushing him and the way Oikawa glared at him was enough for him to stop, and they'd never brought it up since. Oikawa wasn't known for direct answers and so when Atsumu accused him of being evasive, he'd always thought that he was being presumptuous to expect Oikawa to respond to every single question he asked, many of them having nothing to do with his treatment. When his coworkers asked about his knee, Oikawa also brushed him off, and they had the decency to stop asking; Atsumu, however, seemed to lack that part of social grace and would bring it up again a few sessions later.

Oikawa didn't talk about his knee with even Iwaizumi, so it was a little ludicrous for Atsumu to think he'd talk about his injury with _him_.

"No," Oikawa answered and lowered his leg to the ground. "Has your knee been bothering you lately? It seems a little stiffer than last time, so I'm a bit concerned."

"Stop brushin' me off!" Atsumu snapped. He started to sit forward but Iwaizumi's hand on his shoulder stopped him, even though he roughly shrugged off the touch. Atsumu turned, looked at Iwaizumi with the same glare. "Iwaizumi-san, ya gotta be thinkin the same, right? It's why yer so quiet?"

Oikawa didn't say anything and didn't look at him, but the fact that Iwaizumi didn't immediately jump to his defense said all he needed to hear. He closed his eyes and started to count back from ten, but barely made it to six before his eyes fluttered again, this time narrowed as he grasped the exercise bands tightly.

Atsumu looked back at Oikawa. "Look, I'm not tryna to say yer bad at yer job—"

"So what are you saying?" Oikawa asked finally, practiced smile dropping from his lips. He could see Iwaizumi push off the wall and Oikawa cast him a glare that immediately had him stilling, nodding stiffly and leaning back gingerly. Oikawa's eyes moved back to meet Atsumu's and he couldn't help the persistent coiling in his chest from tightening at the way Atsumu was glaring.

"Yer actin' weird and normally, it's whatever, because yer you," Atsumu snapped. He then gestured vaguely to Oikawa's knee and his eyes narrowed further. "But it's got somethin' t'do with yer knee—"

"My knee," Oikawa interrupted quietly, "is because of chronic pain and it has nothing to do with how I treat _yours_. You seem to think you're privileged to personal information about me—"

"I'm not sayin' I deserve to know, I'm sayin' the way ya avoid my questions and brush 'em off is annoyin'!"

"So, what, would you like me to formally apologize for not wanting to answer your questions? Should I include a salutation as well?" Oikawa retorted, raising his chin. "You want me to explain to you that I'm not comfortable answering your question that has nothing to do with our professional relationship every time you ask? That would take up quite a bit of time, you know, because of how nosy you are. Perhaps if you paid more attention to yourself—"

"Yer doin' it again!" Atsumu's voice was rising and Oikawa was fairly sure the only reason he wasn't out of his chair was because Iwaizumi's hand found a seemingly permanent place on his shoulder that Atsumu wasn't able to force off with just moving his shoulder. "Don't think I don't notice when yer bein' preachy and condescendin' towards me, like always slippin' in that we started a week late! I normally let it slide, but—"

"Condescending?" Oikawa echoed, had to swallow the sudden urge to laugh. "Trust me, if I'm being condescending, it's because you've given me reason to—"

"Oikawa," Iwaizumi said quietly and Oikawa just glared at him so sharply that he flinched, glare weakening. He immediately slotted his gaze back to meet Atsumu's; there was a burning behind his sternum, something that had red flashing in his eyes. It was always a challenge to keep himself composed around Atsumu and with Iwaizumi standing right there, it didn't help matters.

He hadn't been enough for Iwaizumi to realize how he felt and even though that broke his heart a million times over, at the very least, that wasn't entirely in his control.

But this, treating Atsumu, was something he was fully capable of. Oikawa had stayed up late poring over textbooks and calling into conferences or watching replays online, he'd consulted his notes more than he had with anyone else because even if he knew all of this by heart, he wanted to be extra sure that the care he was providing wasn't compromised by bias at all.

Oikawa absolutely was going above and beyond and he wouldn't let Atsumu diminish that, try to cast him into a negative light that Oikawa had done everything to stay out of.

"You're more short-tempered than usual, Tsumu-chan," Oikawa remarked, tilting his head. "If you're accusing me of being affected by personal matters, then I suppose I have the right to accuse you of the same."

Atsumu bristled and Oikawa's smirk widened. "Stop divertin' the topic-!"

"Maybe you need to look at yourself," Oikawa interrupted, eyes flashing and setting the file in his lap. "Instead of accusing me, consider why you're acting how you are; is it because you're frustrated with yourself, so you're lashing out on me? Let's think back to what set this off: the fact that I didn't want to talk about why my knee was acting up. You're not privy to that information, as it has nothing to do with you and it's my personal business. You think that because we had the same injury, that I owe you my life story?"

"Oikawa—"

Oikawa swatted Iwaizumi's hand away. "If you believe that I'm looking down on you, it's because you've put yourself in a position for me to do that—you're a professional athlete, Miya, and yet you act like you're a second grader, it's no wonder—"

_"Oikawa, outside, now."_

Iwaizumi's hand was on his arm, hoisting him up and Oikawa's feet stumbled over each other as he was dragged outside. He couldn't help the way his face contorted, somewhere between a wince and a glare as he tried to fight against Iwaizumi's grip, despite knowing it was a lost cause. He yanked the door open and as soon as they were both outside, pulled it shut behind him. Once Iwaizumi let go of his arm, Oikawa nearly fell over and just barely managed to catch himself against a wall; keeping the forearm pressed to the painted plaster, he glared at Iwaizumi. "What a rough way to handle someone whose knee is acting up," he snapped and Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed.

"Like you weren't making it worse yourself first. Stop trying to get out of this by appealing to my guilt."

Oikawa glared but he bit his tongue. He straightened, kept his head bowed and eyes closed as he waited for a twinge in his knee to pass; Iwaizumi didn't say anything, but that silence so clearly showed the way he faltered. When he spoke next, his voice was gentler, which didn't make Oikawa feel any better. He crossed his arms and looked away, frowning. "Go cool off, Oikawa," Iwaizumi said tiredly, shaking his head. "We'll reschedule this session. We've talked about his recovery plan, it's just the same exercises. I can go through them with him—"

"I can do my job, Iwaizumi," Oikawa snapped. Dropping his arms, he hadn't even taken one full stride when Iwaizumi's hand to his chest stopped him. It wasn't a very hard press, certainly not one that would have resulted in the way Oikawa exhaled so suddenly and forcefully, but Iwaizumi's touch, even through a layer of clothing, had that effect on him. He stopped walking but reflexively reached a hand to push his away because of his lingering anger, still glaring at him. "I'm _fine_ —"

"No, you're not," Iwaizumi said, but his voice was softer still and Oikawa immediately had to look away because as angry as he was, if Iwaizumi looked at him that way, that anger would always part for the pure agony of heartbreak. "And you know how I know? Because the way you looked in there was how you used to look at me. It's just one day. Seriously, Oikawa, go cool off. I'll go through the exercises with Atsumu and then I'll meet you at your place—"

"I'm _fine_ —"

"You're not, Oikawa, and it's at least partially because of what I said this morning," Iwaizumi interrupted and Oikawa knew he tensed noticeably. He could feel his shoulders coming up and even though he relaxed them, Iwaizumi definitely saw. "Let's just talk about it more, okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you this badly—"

"We're fine," Oikawa mumbled, voice tight, brow knitting. "We said everything we needed to in the café that night, this isn't—"

"We didn't talk about Himari or what happened after we broke up," Iwaizumi replied. He reached his hand out and this time when Oikawa felt his fingers gently take his wrist, he didn't pull away. It was such a light touch, the pads of Iwaizumi's fingers so warm and soft against the thin and delicate skin. Oikawa swallowed; he could feel the burning feeling in his chest begin to ebb until every inhale felt like a cool rush of wind through a valley. "Please, Oikawa. I can't let this conversation end knowing that it's hurt you this much."

Biting his lip, Oikawa barely managed to hold back a sob. The free hand came up to his face and he heard Iwaizumi murmur _okay_ and then he was gone, wrist feeling colder than the rest of his body. As he heard the door to the room open and close, Oikawa immediately veered into the nearest bathroom, sank down against the door with his back pressed against it and covered his face with his hands.

He'd never processed the aftermath of the breakup and as cathartic as talking to Iwaizumi had been, honesty didn't bypass something that he had to feel to work through. He'd gone from numbness to anger to accepting what he still felt for him without once ever reveling in what he'd lost and now, it felt like, everything was crested and broken at once.

Oikawa stood carefully, shifting his weight carefully to his left leg. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he tapped his right foot to the floor gingerly, lingered until it felt bearable. Licking his lips, he turned around and curled his fingers over the cool metal handle. Oikawa took another moment to gather himself before opening the door and stepping outside. Half-lidded eyes recognized that both the hallway and room were clear; he couldn't help but hesitate, wonder if Iwaizumi had changed his mind about going through the exercises with Atsumu on his own. Shaking his head, he limped back to the lounge where he kept his belongings and managed to shake off his coworker's concerned glances, answered that his knee was acting up and he was taking the rest of the day off.

It was an honest answer and so they just nodded, told him they hoped he'd feel better soon, didn't realize how badly Oikawa wished for that to be true.

He normally took a bus or the subway but today he'd called a car with his phone and so was home in under fifteen minutes. As soon as he was in his apartment, he put his phone on silent and tossed it aside, letting the door close behind him. His knee continued to grow more and more sore, but it still wasn't anything that he couldn't push through. Oikawa immediately went to all his windows and closed the blinds because even if he lived on a moderately high floor, he wanted absolute privacy. With how badly he was trembling, even sunlight felt like it left him too exposed, illuminated someone who wanted to disappear entirely.

He didn't know how long he spent just pacing around his living room, undoubtedly exacerbating his knee. He couldn't stay still; every time he sat still for more than a few seconds, it felt like his chest was going to burst and he didn't know how to handle that because how did someone handle feeling like their chest was physically going to _burst_? His mind didn't know what to focus on, if he should ruminate on Iwaizumi and Himari or focus on Atsumu. Whenever he tried to think of one, his mind would jump to the other; there was just so much noise in his mind that he could barely even hear himself panting, felt it only through the quick breaths and dry lips.

Oikawa eventually went into his bathroom; he flicked the lights on and grasped the edges of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. There as a sheen coat of sweat layered across his forehead, chestnut hair matted to his skin. His chest heaved and his cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide and his bottom lip bruised from how he'd been chewing at it all afternoon. He'd taken extra care with his appearance this morning because of Iwaizumi, but based on how he looked now, it didn't matter at all because as he stared at himself, he could barely recognize this reflection.

He saw his eyes, his skin, his nose, his Cupid's bow, his lips, his jaw, his eyebrows, his freckles, his collarbones, his neck—he saw what he'd seen every single day growing up and, at the same time, he didn't recognize himself.

This was someone who lost volleyball. This was someone who loved something so passionately, but lost it with _one_ bad decision that he'd _known_ about. This was someone who was so irresponsible that he'd lost the two most important things in his life and even if he was friends with Iwaizumi again, a part of him was afraid it would never be the same. This was someone who loved with absolutely everything, but he still hadn't been enough. This was someone whose love, something that was meant to be so pure, was absolutely destructive, ruined both Oikawa's dreams and his most precious relationship. This was someone who Oikawa didn't know if he wanted to be and certainly not someone he wanted staring back at him in the mirror.

With no warning, his airway narrowed and Oikawa was left gasping for breath. One hand came to his chest while the other hit the mirror as a closed fist. Stumbling out of the bathroom, he managed to make it into the hallway where he braced himself against the wall, knees shaking and knocking against each other. He leaned his weight on his forearm, but just felt it slip against the surface and tried to take a deep breath, hoping it would clear his vision.

He'd sprained his knee, his doctor had told him to be careful, he'd started wearing a brace, he'd kept an eye out for it, he'd started doing specific exercises to prevent this, he spent hours researching to try and learn as much as he could to prevent _this exact situation_ from happening, and he'd thrown it all away, indulged in behaviors that he _knew_ went against everything, ignored the voice in his head telling him to stop, ignored his teammates' concern, ignored his coach's warnings, ignored _Iwaizumi—_

Ignored Iwaizumi, who was just about the kindest, most sincere person in the world, who was so in tune with Oikawa's feelings that he knew how he felt before even Oikawa did, how what he felt for Oikawa wasn't enough for him to realize back then, how if he had maybe things would have been different, how they could still be together, how Himari wouldn't have been the person he was about to marry—

Oikawa had just barely made it into the living room, still leaning against the wall to stay standing when he took one step that pulsated pain through his leg. Gasping sharply, he felt both his knees give out, space coming between his arm and the wall. He braced himself for the pain of hitting the ground and when he realized he was warm and still standing, it took him a moment to hear a voice caressing the shell of his ear.

When he inhaled, it was that familiar cologne and Oikawa's knees folded, but this time for a completely different reason.

This was a scent and presence he'd know even in his dreams.

He could hear Iwaizumi say his name and instead of responding, Oikawa brought his arms around him and buried his face in his shoulder, taking a deep breath. Oikawa's mind had been racing; there had been so much that he could barely hear his own thoughts, but now that Iwaizumi was here, all Oikawa could focus on was the guilt he just knew was manifesting in Iwaizumi's expression. Oikawa wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault; this wasn't something that he could fix and he had been as honest as Oikawa wanted, that he'd done everything right and Oikawa's heartbreak was entirely his own.

But Iwaizumi wasn't the type of person to stand by idly while Oikawa was this upset and that had his heart swelling.

"Oikawa—Oikawa, can you hear me? Do you need me to call—"

"I can hear you," Oikawa breathed, Iwaizumi's words filling his ears as soon as the high-pitched buzzing began to subside. He took another moment before pulling back, hands coming to a rest on his shoulders, smiling shakily. He already missed the feeling of Iwaizumi's body pressed against his own and the contact between his palms and his body was barely enough. "Sorry about that, I'm okay—"

"Stop saying that when you're clearly not," Iwaizumi interrupted, but his voice was kind and eyes brimmed with concern. Oikawa just dropped his gaze with the same smile, pulling his hands back. "What the hell did you do to your knee?"

"Like I told—"

"This isn't chronic pain, Oikawa, don't try to lie to me. I don't know as much as you do, but I know that for sure."

Breath catching in his throat, Oikawa gave a stiff nod and couldn't help his frown. Iwaizumi helped him over to the couch, one arm slipping under his shoulders, and lowered him carefully. When Oikawa asked how he got in, Iwaizumi grumbled that the door was unlocked. Oikawa took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he sank into the cushions. One arm came to rest over his stomach and the other arm over his eyes, head tilting back. Upon feeling a light graze over his knee, he flinched; eyes flying open, he immediately apologized to see the way Iwaizumi pulled back, hand suspended in midair. "S-shit, sorry, I should've asked—"

"No, it's fine," he rushed, cleared his throat. "I'm just not used to anyone besides myself touching it, but… it's fine."

Iwaizumi nodded after a moment. He gently took the brace off and Oikawa felt him lift his leg momentarily, slipping it beneath his ankle and off his foot. When he felt Iwaizumi's cool fingers directly to his skin, it took everything to not react too strongly as Oikawa's brow furrowed against his arm. In the short flings he'd had over the years, none had turned into relationships, certainly not the kind where he'd talk about his knee. Whenever someone asked why he wore a brace, he explained it as a sprain and then more than distracted them; for almost ten years, it was only his hand massaging the area and yet, Iwaizumi's touch felt as natural as his own.

"I don't think you did anything massively stupid, but it is a bit swollen and tender," Iwaizumi said quietly and when he pulled his hand back, Oikawa immediately found himself missing it. "You have ice packs, right? Or frozen vegetables?"

His broccoli was still at the hospital, but he did have ice packs at home. "Freezer," he mumbled. Iwaizumi nodded and Oikawa felt the pressure of his hand next to his thigh on the couch as he stood. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he brought a shaking hand to his face, thumb and middle finger on either temple. He shivered to feel a light breeze announce Iwaizumi's return, nodded at his voice and bit his lip to feel the cold against his lightly throbbing knee. He reached down to hold the ice pack in place as Iwaizumi took one of the throw pillows and placed it on the coffee table, helped Oikawa to extend his leg, rest his foot on it. "Okay?"

Only after he gave a nod did Iwaizumi stand and sit next to him on the couch. Oikawa was absentmindedly pressing the ice pack to his knee with his gaze focused on nothing in particular, but even before Iwaizumi said anything, his ears were already perking in anticipation. He bit his lip and shook his head. "Like I said, Iwa-chan, it's fine—"

"It's not," Iwaizumi rebutted. "You're upset, Oikawa—"

"But it's not your fault," Oikawa interrupted, keeping his gaze averted and feeling his brow knit. "I can tell you feel bad but… please, Iwa-chan. It's nothing you did. You were honest with me, which is all I can ask of you."

He licked his lips and after a moment, looked to his side and offered a small smile. "I never went through the post-breakup phase. There's nothing anyone can do about it except just… to go through it. I think mine was delayed because of everything that happened and hearing about you and Himari-chan… that was my catalyst. I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything. Please don't feel guilty about it. This is the kind of heartbreak that I have to live through."

Iwaizumi's brow only creased further, but when he looked away, Oikawa smiled because he knew he'd convinced him as much as he possibly could. Iwaizumi was easy to read; he didn't always have to announce what he was thinking because his expression betrayed everything, which Oikawa had always found so endearing and refreshing. His eyes dropped to the hand resting just centimeters away from his and his fingers twitched with the impulse to reach out. He managed to restrain himself, pulling back his hand and returning his gaze to his knee, shifting slightly to be more comfortable. The ice helped to dull the pain but without that from his knee, all he had left to focus on was what was swirling in his chest.

"…Okay," Iwaizumi said quietly. "Do you want me to leave, then?"

There wasn't much that Oikawa could say with confidence, but _no_ was one of the few things he didn't have to think twice about that day.

He closed his eyes but heard a smile in the way Iwaizumi sighed. "…It gets better, right?" Oikawa mumbled quietly, molded the already softening ice pack.

"…Kind of," Iwaizumi answered and Oikawa's frown deepened. He hadn't expected an answer brimming with positivity, but he did hope for something more reassuring, though was charmed that even in this situation, he could rely on Iwaizumi to be honest. He moved the icepack again, flipped it over and heard Iwaizumi sigh. "Can I just say one thing?"

Oikawa swallowed and nodded, heart already racing.

"What you said about you not being enough…"

It took him a minute to register the warmth on his hand. Oikawa tensed every part of his body except that hand, kept is as natural as he could to not lose the delicate touch. Oikawa didn't understand his body's reactions to Iwaizumi sometimes. They had been close before, much closer, much more intimately than just Iwaizumi's hand on his own, and yet this gesture, so simple and ordinary, left his entire body feeling like it had been struck by lightning.

"It's not that you weren't enough," Iwaizumi said quietly and Oikawa bit his lip. "We were dating. A relationship like that takes two people and we broke up because of me. You were enough, but I wasn't enough for you. You have always been enough for me, so don't ever think otherwise, Oikawa."

Oikawa didn't say anything, but he didn't feel like he needed to. The way a smile curved his lips left his chest feeling warm for a moment. He turned his hand over before the confidence to do so would elude him and twined his fingers with Iwaizumi's. If they were in high school, he'd then lean his head to his shoulder, but they weren't in high school and this felt as close as they would ever be again.

Each time something like this happened, it felt like closure. Every time his heart shattered just a little more and he thought that it was because this was the end. And yet, every time he thought it was over, something else happened and Oikawa wondered if there was a limit to how much pain he could feel because it seemed like even though he and Iwaizumi were over, it still wasn't the end and that closure continued to be an illusion he chased.

Licking his lips, he leaned forward for the remote. Oikawa had lost some flexibility ever since he'd stopped working out as much as he did as a professional athlete, but the twinge he felt in his leg was more from his knee than his hamstring and he yelped, instinctively pulling his hand away from Iwaizumi's to press to his knee. He hadn't even opened his mouth to tell Iwaizumi that he was fine when he was instantly at his side, hand hovering over Oikawa's.

When he turned, his face was so close that just for a moment, Oikawa forgot about absolutely everything because when Iwaizumi was so close, when he could see every eyelash and every freckle, it was all that he could focus on.

"Seriously, Oikawa, what did—"

"It's fine," Oikawa answered, "I just—I was working out and it's nothing—"

"Why are you pushing yourself so hard?" Iwaizumi asked quietly and when he looked up, Oikawa entirely forgot he even had a physical body. The way Iwaizumi looked at him was smoldering and what made it worse was that he knew Iwaizumi wasn't intending on having this effect. He was genuinely concerned for him and he had no ulterior motive; the way he was melting away Oikawa's resolve was unintentional and he most likely had no idea that all Oikawa wanted to do in this moment was kiss him until he forgot his own name.

He cleared his throat. "I-it's nothing, I'm—"

"I talked to Atsumu," Iwaizumi said quietly, "and knocked some sense into him because he was being aggressive, but Oikawa… you haven't talked to anyone either, have you? About your knee?"

Breath hitching, Oikawa looked away, fingers curling. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's fine," Iwaizumi said and he was still so close that Oikawa could feel his breath tickling him as he spoke, sending shivers wracking his body. "But… I'm not going to leave this time. If you really want me to, of course I will, but…"

He paused.

"…I'm scared to leave you alone again."

For almost ten years, Oikawa had been running away from both Iwaizumi and himself. And even though the heartbreak from his breakup felt near-debilitating, it was something that Oikawa just had to let himself feel. He'd said everything he needed to and heard everything he needed, but pain didn't magically vanish with the right words and they could only frame a context for what he still very viscerally felt. It hurt, but he'd be okay about their breakup eventually.

But his knee was something that he still kept repressed, that admitting to Iwaizumi he recognized it wasn't his fault was the first time he'd verbalized even just a hint of the black hole he pretended didn't exist. Every time he saw Atsumu, it felt like he threatened a collapse and Oikawa couldn't help but bite back at him, deflected everything he saw Atsumu do _right_ that he'd done _wrong_.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and unconsciously tightened his grip on the icepack. "I'm—"

_Fine._

"…Not fine."

It took him a moment to realize what he'd said and when he heard his own words echoing in his mind, his eyes opened. In his peripheral vision, he could see Iwaizumi visibly relax, almost smiling in relief to hear him admit it at last. Oikawa pressed his lips into a thin line and inhaled sharply through his nose. Just that admittance brought a stinging to the back of his eyes and this time he reached out for Iwaizumi's hand, squeezed it tightly.

Only when he felt Iwaizumi return the squeeze, was he able to exhale.

"…Does Iwa-chan want to watch some television?" he asked quietly.

He heard Iwaizumi's breathless laugh, even found himself with a small, lopsided smile. Iwaizumi picked up the remote from the table before reclaiming his seat next to Oikawa, hands never losing contact, and sat so close their arms brushed fleetingly until Oikawa secured the contact and leaned his head on his shoulder, already feeling his chest expand in relief.

They weren't in high school anymore, but they were still Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

Iwaizumi turned on the television, navigated to a drama Oikawa had mentioned he was watching just last week. Oikawa had been rambling during lunch, unbothered by the fact that Iwaizumi was checking his emails; for as petulant as he could be, Oikawa did actually realize when he was being unreasonable. He just wanted to vent about a recent plot development and because Iwaizumi didn't watch the drama and didn't care, he didn't mind if he wasn't fully paying attention; he just wanted to say everything out loud.

And then Iwaizumi mumbled the exact detail that had driven Oikawa mad and he smiled, was grateful that Iwaizumi couldn't see from his angle.

"Doesn't Iwa-chan still hate dramas?" he muttered softly.

"Yeah," he heard Iwaizumi murmur. "I do."

He squeezed his hand.

"But you like them, so that's all that matters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! another long chapter because when revising, i felt that oikawa wasn't distressed enough by the conversation about himari (in a "learning about the partner his ex/love of his life almost married and unable to help but compare himself to her while finally allowing himself to feel the pain he's ignored for almost a decade" sort of way, not a "let's make oikawa cry" sort of way). anyway! oikawa suffering aside, happy holidays (depending where you are) and wishing you all the best because the holiday seasons can be very stressful
> 
> thank you, as always, for reading!! kudos/comments greatly appreciated ♡


	15. to watch wisteria grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all he knew was that iwaizumi was the only person who could break and heal his heart at the exact same time, give him everything he needed and leave him wondering if he’d ever be whole again.

"Iwa-chan, can you grab some more ramen? We finished the last of it last night. The soy sauce kind is on the top shelf."

Oikawa hesitated and tilted his head.

"Can Iwa-chan reach?"

Iwaizumi stared at him in a way where Oikawa knew his saving grace was being in the middle of the largest grocery store in the area.

Nonetheless, his expression relaxed right before he turned and Oikawa watched him reach up an arm, easily grabbing the plastic package. As he did so, the way his shirt rode up to expose a sliver of skin didn't go unnoticed; Oikawa's gaze returned to eye level by the time Iwaizumi turned, twisted the package to show him the label and asked if it was the one Oikawa meant. He smiled and nodded, didn't move from the cart as Iwaizumi tossed it into the basket. One forearm rested against the handle, his fingers toying with the metal grid that would pull out as the other hand cradled his chin, managing to find a particular spot on his elbow that didn't hurt to lean against the plastic. When he heard approaching footsteps, Oikawa's eyes raised to see Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

Matsukawa was holding the green onions and miso Iwaizumi had asked for.

Hanamaki's hands were empty of the fish Iwaizumi had asked for. In fact, his hands were noticeably hidden in his pockets; all that he offered was a grin. "So, there were a lot of fish and I forgot which you said you wanted, Iwaizumi."

Iwaizumi glared. "Matsukawa couldn't help?"

"I wasn't listening," he answered without hesitation. "It was Hanamaki's responsibility."

Iwaizumi glowered at Matsukawa before grumbling that he'd partly expected this and sighed, headed back towards where the two had just come from with Hanamaki. Oikawa's eyes lingered on Iwaizumi until he turned and disappeared from view, sounds of his chastising and Hanamaki's lighthearted apologies disappearing into the mix of incoherent chatters and muted music playing from overhead. Only then did Oikawa sigh and let his shoulders slump, palm separating from his chin so that a slender finger could rub at the inner corner of a closed eye. Matsukawa asked if he was all right in a soft voice and Oikawa nodded with a small smile, cast him a half-lidded gaze. "I'm just tired, Mattsun. I told Iwa-chan we could just stay in and order take-out all day again but he seemed pretty set on going grocery shopping… it's not like one home cooked meal is going to make my knee better."

Oikawa couldn't help but pout when he resumed his original position. The weekend had come and passed and, to Oikawa's secretly racing heart and barely muted blushes, Iwaizumi had barely left his side.

When Iwaizumi had left on Friday after dinner and several more episodes of the drama, he hadn't mentioned coming back. Oikawa, mind still hazy from both emotional exhaustion and being so close to Iwaizumi for so long, hadn't been able to bring himself to ask him if he was free that weekend. He'd woken up a bit later than he normally would the next morning, winced at the dull headache he'd fallen asleep with and could foresee becoming a migraine without food and water soon.

After a few more minutes of basking in the safety of his bed, Oikawa forced himself out from under his duvet with a slight groan. He mustered the little energy he had so soon after waking to shuffle into the kitchen, finding his painkillers with practiced ease. He held two between his teeth and poured himself a glass of water; only then did he swallow them, downing the entire glass of water before retreating to his bathroom to wash up.

He detoured to his nightstand to unplug his phone from the charger after slipping into an old college sweater and joggers. Oikawa tried to ignore disappointment at seeing no messages from Iwaizumi; even if he normally was up earlier than this, it was still fairly early on a weekend morning. He walked over to his door, palm pressed to a wall as he stepped into his shoes and pulled on a jacket. He normally wouldn't be caught in public dressed so casually, but all Oikawa intended to do was grab a latte, which would take ten or fifteen minutes at most. After that, he would then spend as long as he needed to figure out how to casually ask Iwaizumi if he was free. Oikawa had only been awake for a total of half an hour, but the sleepy haze was wearing off, leaving that seemingly endless ache in his chest that only Iwaizumi seemed to be able to bay.

Only hours of dramas with his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder could temper the way Oikawa's chest felt like it wanted to cave in on itself and disappear his entire existence. He'd fallen asleep soon after Iwaizumi left only because the technicalities of physical fatigue overrode all else; now that he was awake, though, it was difficult to try and avoid how he felt, especially when Iwaizumi wasn't there. Even with every step he took, his knee ached slightly in pain, a physical manifestation of a reminder of something Oikawa wished he could purge from his memory.

Oikawa always wanted to be with Iwaizumi, but this wasn't just his standard _he makes me feel safe, I want to spend time with him_. He knew that if he asked and even so much as implied that it was about his knee, Iwaizumi would drop anything. However, Oikawa didn't want that; he didn't want to feel like an obligation and he didn't want Iwaizumi to worry more than he had to. He didn't want to think that Iwaizumi was with him only because Oikawa had asked; like in high school, he found himself selfishly wishing for Iwaizumi to read his mind and do exactly as he wanted, even if Oikawa would verbally say or indicate otherwise.

So when Oikawa opened his door to see Iwaizumi sitting next to his doormat, something more than just air filled his lungs.

_"Iwa-chan?"_

_Oikawa's heart had skipped a beat, luckily right after his voice evenly coaxed Iwaizumi's attention. Iwaizumi jerked; when he craned his neck to look at him, Oikawa immediately noted the sleep crusting his eyes and offered him a hand, squeezed maybe a moment too soon and hung on a moment too long after Iwaizumi had stood. "Why didn't you call me?" he asked, voice gentle and teasing but also firm. "How long have you been sitting here?"_

_"You were tired last night and I didn't want to risk waking you if you were sleeping in," Iwaizumi said, morning voice gravelly in a way that had the back of Oikawa's neck feeling warm. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eye; as he did so, Oikawa's eyes fell to see a backpack resting by his feet. "It's fine if you've got stuff to do, I won't get in your way, but wanted to see if you wanted to just hang out today."_

_Oikawa's smile widened in a way he didn't expect, given how heavy his chest still felt. He shook his head and stepped back, opened the door wider to invite him in. His heart skipped in his chest in the best way possible, brought a spring to his step even when he was standing still. "I was just going to step out to get coffee, but since Iwa-chan's here, we can order some. Is Iwa-chan hungry?"_

_As if on cue, a low rumbling sounded from Iwaizumi's stomach._

_Oikawa laughed, felt the sound come so naturally from a throat that had been tight with the effort to not cry almost as soon as he woke up. Iwaizumi glared halfheartedly as he picked up his backpack and stepped over the threshold. He kicked his shoes off and left the bag in a corner; Oikawa closed the door after him and slipped off his coat, pulling out his phone and setting it on the kitchen counter before reaching for two hangers. "Give me your coat, Iwa-chan."_

_Iwaizumi obliged and if he weren't right there, Oikawa would have embarrassingly held the coat that clung onto Iwaizumi's warmth for much too long. Instead, he forced himself to slip it onto the hanger, loop the curve over the bar in his hallway closet and repeat the process with his own jacket. "What are you in the mood for?" Iwaizumi asked, having pulled out his phone and thumb swiping over the screen. "It's on me."_

_"Anything," Oikawa answered easily. He closed the closet door and stepped over to lean against the counter next to Iwaizumi. All Iwaizumi had done was step into his apartment and say a few words but Oikawa already felt like he could breathe a little easier because if a tsunami submerged the entire island they were on, Iwaizumi was his pocket of air. He always had been, and he always would be._

_"Omelettes?" Iwaizumi suggested, eyes never leaving his phone._

_Oikawa's gaze relaxed as he watched him, wondered if the fluttering in his chest was overriding or replacing some of the anxiety. "Not in the mood," he answered easily._

_Iwaizumi immediately closed his eyes, brow pinching right before a hand came to cover the upper portion of his face. Oikawa's grin widened, sang an unapologetic apology and Iwaizumi grumbled that one day, he really would hit Oikawa. Oikawa laughed; he laughed for the second time that morning when even contentment had been the very last way he'd expected to feel. A storm was brewing in his chest, thunder drumming until the crack of lightning that would ruin him but as soon as he opened the door and saw Iwaizumi, it was like he'd stepped into the eye._

_All Iwaizumi had to do was exist and Oikawa would think that he'd be okay. There were very few things in the world that he could be sure of, but that was absolutely one of them._

_It was so easy to remain smiling when he looked back at Iwaizumi, reached out a hang and started scrolling through Iwaizumi's phone for him. "But anything other than that is fine."_

_Iwaizumi scowled._

_"You're a fucking liar, Oikawa."_

In high school, their take-out ritual would often take over two hours. Oikawa would first promise to choose a cuisine if Iwaizumi came up with three and from there, they would repeat the process with Iwaizumi choosing three restaurants and Oikawa making the final decision. Of course, Iwaizumi would hold up his part, but then Oikawa would debate among them, say that they had too much Japanese food, to which Iwaizumi would snap that, fine, they could try the new Western-style cafe, to which Oikawa would say the Western-style food always disappointed him.

Then, when they would somehow agree on a cuisine, this happened all over again with the choice of restaurant, except this time Oikawa would be comparing the menu of the same place across three delivery apps, point out some had coupons but, wait, those had higher delivery and service fees, maybe they should try the Western-style cafe after all. By the time Iwaizumi made the final choice, threatening to hit Oikawa if he argued with him, they'd be at the check-out screen only to realize there were either no couriers in the area anymore or the restaurant was no longer accepting delivery orders.

Oikawa would then be tasked with cooking them instant ramen because, after all, it was _his_ fault.

In adulthood, Oikawa continued to be plagued by indecision. Luckily for him, Iwaizumi had either become even less patient or more decisive; he couldn't tell, but he did know that within five minutes of Oikawa saying no to omelettes, Iwaizumi was finished tapping on his phone, answered he'd ordered them something that he'd like. He refused to elaborate and when the doorbell rang just twenty minutes later, Oikawa padded after Iwaizumi curiously to the door.

_"Did Tsumu-chan dye his hair…?" Oikawa asked slowly once the door opened, an all too familiar face with a new aura and new hair color. Atsumu's lookalike glanced up and just stared at him wordlessly, handing Iwaizumi a plastic bag. He nodded._

_"Thanks, Osamu. Appreciate it."_

_"'Course, Iwaizumi-san. I owe ya one anyway. See ya around."_

_"You had Onigiri-kun deliver us onigiri?" Oikawa asked even before the door closed, followed Iwaizumi back into the kitchen where he pulled out two canned coffees and several onigiri, setting them onto the counter. Iwaizumi glared over his shoulder, held out one of the coffees for him. "Was it free? Did Iwa-chan get a discount?"_

_"Yeah, but don't think this is something he does regularly. He was in the area and had some free time. And his name's not Onigiri-kun."_

_Oikawa hummed. He looked at the can in his hands, noted that it was caramel and the one Iwaizumi held was black. Oikawa couldn't help but smile, touched that Iwaizumi remembered that he only liked ridiculously sweet coffee more suited for children than adults. "He seems more tolerable than Tsumu-chan," Oikawa said._

_Iwaizumi smirked. He opened the can with one hand, brought it to his lips and took a long sip. "He is, but I don't think he'd really like you either way. Eat the onigiri before the rice hardens and gets cold."_

Iwaizumi had gotten two bites into his first onigiri when his phone began to buzz uncontrollably. He pulled a face and pulled it out of his pocket, setting it flat on the counter. Oikawa made no move to crane his neck and just delicately asked who it was; Iwaizumi didn't answer, but the way he scowled and turned it face down without answering left Oikawa assuming it was Atsumu.

Oikawa smiled happily at that.

After breakfast, Oikawa had silently left a key on the kitchen counter where Iwaizumi was still sitting, scrolling through his phone. He lingered and waited until he was sure Iwaizumi saw it before disappearing into his room for his laptop. After several more seconds of shuffling than was needed, Oikawa snuck a glance once he returned and bit his lip to keep from smiling at the key being gone. All he did was ask if Iwaizumi wanted to watch the same drama or not, to which he said yes and Oikawa smiled, took a seat on the couch. Iwaizumi joined him, handed him the cord connected to the television and when their hands brushed, Oikawa thought he could have easily mistaken it as light electrocution.

Iwaizumi hadn't even ended up using the key; after they spent the day mostly watching dramas but occasionally doing some research and work, Oikawa casually teased that if he'd just wake to Iwaizumi at his door again, he should just stay over. Iwaizumi had sputtered, managing both to chastise Oikawa and apologize to him at the same time and when Oikawa quietly said it was a legitimate offer, Iwaizumi hesitated, then nodded, his downcast eyes making it easier for Oikawa to smile.

_"...Yeah, I wouldn't mind that, actually. Thanks."_

Even with Iwaizumi there, Oikawa would find his breath catching in the worst possible way at times. Sometimes it would happen when Oikawa was doing research for Atsumu and sometimes it would be when that was the last thing on his mind, when he was watching yet another instance of miscommunication derail the main couple in the drama. It would happen so instantaneously but once it did, Oikawa would find it had been building up, that the coiling in his chest and the pressure had been growing unnoticeably slowly until it was hard to breathe.

He'd always nod when Iwaizumi immediately asked if he was all right, round his shoulders and bow his head. His heart would beat uncomfortably, the rhythm rapid and shallow, like whatever was in his chest was stifling its movements. Most of the time it would subside enough where he'd be able to go back to what he was doing; a few times it wouldn't and when he'd reflexively reach out a free hand, Iwaizumi would immediately grasp it. He'd then lean in, his arm around Oikawa's shoulders and lips so close to his ear that Oikawa knew if he just turned his head, he'd be able to kiss him and while that would probably be enough to temporarily unwind what was in his chest, it would also cause a whole _new_ abundance of anxiety.

Oikawa didn't want to think about the obvious root cause and whenever Iwaizumi quietly asked if he was ready, he'd shake his head and quickly change the topic, clear his throat and avert his gaze. He knew that it was an inevitable conversation and he also knew it would never be something he'd _want_ to talk about. But, he trusted that there would come a time when he felt ready to push through his discomfort, talk about some of his most repressed, most personal feelings to someone he trusted with everything.

When his injury had first happened, it felt like a black hole that would swallow him, leave no trace of Oikawa Tooru, so Oikawa ran away so quickly that he couldn't be swept up in what would decimate him.

But he'd returned to Tokyo and he'd returned to Iwaizumi. If he and Iwaizumi could sit down and have a conversation that had been overdue for almost ten years, then he could talk about his knee too. It was the right person and the right time, just not the right moment, but he knew it would come; he just had to be patient and trust himself the way he trusted Iwaizumi.

The weekend passed like that: Iwaizumi's quiet company, their easy conversations, take-out littering Oikawa's kitchen and garbage. Iwaizumi had taken Oikawa's couch and while Oikawa felt guilty, knew that his cheap couch wasn't the most comfortable to sleep on, he was grateful that Iwaizumi had immediately asked for pillows and a blanket, spared Oikawa of an internal _should I offer him my bed because he's my guest and someone I care about deeply and because we've slept together in the literal and non-literal sense or would that be overstepping boundaries with our history?_ conundrum entirely.

On Sunday night, Iwaizumi had mentioned that he'd taken the week off from work, but he'd still go to the hospital for Atsumu's sessions. The way he avoided looking at Oikawa as he said the last part prompted another topic that Oikawa dreaded to even think about. He'd sighed, both annoyance and relief mixing in his chest to add another layer into what Oikawa could only eloquently describe as an emotional lasagna.

_"I'm not going to skip-"_

_"I don't think you going in would be doing anyone any good right now," Iwaizumi said and Oikawa instantly frowned. They hadn't ordered takeout, but instant ramen wasn't much healthier, even if Iwaizumi had added in some vegetables and fish cake that Oikawa didn't realize he still had. He grumbled a 'thanks' when Iwaizumi tossed another slice into his bowl, stared at the pink swirl contrast brightly against the white. "I can make sure Atsumu doesn't go off on you, but I can't do anything about you."_

_"So Iwa-chan wants me to skimp on my responsibilities because he's afraid of my temper?" Oikawa couldn't help but snap. At that, Iwaizumi looked up tiredly and Oikawa mumbled a curt apology, eyes dropping._

_"I'm serious," Iwaizumi replied, brow furrowing. "Is he at a crucial part in his treatment? Promise me that he is and I'll let you go. But if it's not, then… it's just you being prideful, Oikawa. And that's not worth how hard this is on you."_

_Oikawa frowned. His chopsticks had stilled and he relaxed his grip on them, let the twirled noodles fall back into the bowl. A bit of the soup splashed on the table but he ignored it, focused his eyes on the bit of seaweed stuck to the edge of the bowl. He was silent for a moment too long, he guessed, because Iwaizumi sighed and apologized, but it wasn't enough for Oikawa to look up._

_"I know that was direct but it's true, isn't it?" Iwaizumi asked. "If you go in tomorrow, you're not pushing yourself for his treatment, it's because you don't want to feel like he won. But, Oikawa, no one's winning. You're not weak if you don't go in because despite how he acts, trust me, he'll understand. It takes more strength to admit when you need a break than to try and shoulder through it and-"_

_"And tear my ACL?" Oikawa interrupted sharply, looked up at last._

_"I didn't say that," Iwaizumi said quietly. Oikawa couldn't help but lessen his glare; it wasn't fair for Iwaizumi to look at him so honestly and earnestly because now there was no way for Oikawa to keep glaring without feeling guilty. He pressed his lips into a thin line and set his chopsticks across the bowl, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms._

_"Oikawa," he heard in a low tone. "You know I'm right."_

_His frown deepened and he looked away._

_"I'll wait as long as you need," Iwaizumi continued, "but you know that you going in tomorrow is going to be worse for you than it would be beneficial for Atsumu. I'll be there. I know the treatment plan, I know the exercises. If I really need you, I'll call you."_

_Oikawa's brow knit. He snapped, "I heard you," when Iwaizumi prompted him again and finally sighed, closing his eyes. His long fingers drummed against his arms, knew that Iwaizumi felt his acquiescence settle and was just waiting for verbal confirmation. It was the downfall of how well they knew each other; Oikawa could get away with most of his lies, but Iwaizumi had a tendency of hearing the unspoken truth even before Oikawa finished fabricating his story, rendering it a fruitless attempt._

_He huffed and opened his eyes, kept them narrowed and glaring at a small stain in the junction of his wall and floor. He kept a pending exhale suspended in his throat until the very last moment, released it and relaxed his shoulders. "...I'm only missing a week at most," he said at last. "Okay? Just three sessions and then you have to let me at least go in once to make sure he's on track."_

_There was a pause and when Oikawa heard another plop, slated his eyes to his bowl and saw that Iwaizumi had given him an entire slice of pork. He hesitated but reluctantly took his chopsticks, picked up the meat before Iwaizumi could change his mind. As he did so, he inadvertently met Iwaizumi's gaze._

_He smiled and Oikawa almost dropped the slice._

_"All right."_

Oikawa was a naturally early riser, a habit that he'd developed in middle school because of volleyball and had kept at it for long enough that he continued to do so as an adult. When the weekend had ended and it was Atsumu's first session of the week, Oikawa remained in bed; when he couldn't fall back asleep no matter how hard he tried, he ended up listening to Iwaizumi bustling around outside, closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep when his door creaked open because Oikawa's one bedroom apartment had just one bathroom to wash up in.

Iwaizumi was normally quick in getting ready in the morning. However, the ten or so minutes he spent in the bathroom felt like eons and Oikawa was relieved to finally be able to open his eyes when he heard him leave, pulling the door to his bedroom closed behind him. After several more minutes, his front door opened and closed and only then did Oikawa sit up, blankets pooling at his hips and staring at his upturned palms, felt a myriad of emotions traversing his nervous system but unable to pinpoint a single one.

Atsumu's sessions were every other day, and so he didn't have to pretend to be asleep again until two days later. His sessions weren't very long and given that Iwaizumi was only out of the apartment for two hours max, it seemed like all he did was go straight to the hospital and come back, make just one quick detour to pick up lunch. Oikawa appreciated it because when Iwaizumi was here, it was easy to overlay the nausea in his chest with the warmth Iwaizumi's existence carried.

When he wasn't, it left Oikawa only with a terrifyingly fragile equilibrium that felt like it would crack if he inhaled too quickly.

Oikawa had actually managed to fall asleep after Iwaizumi left for Atsumu's second session of the week, realized only when he woke up to hearing Iwaizumi on the phone. He glanced at his own to see no missed messages and that it was past lunch. He sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily. Even though he kept waking up when he normally did, he did seem to fall asleep earlier and noted that he tended to feel more rested, like his body, which had become accustomed to running on the bare minimum of sleep, was catching up on years of sleep debt with Iwaizumi's presence.

Stifling a yawn, Oikawa stood from bed and made his way to the door. He was rubbing an eye when he pulled at the doorknob, a creak drawing Iwaizumi's attention to him. Immediately pivoting the phone away from his mouth, he apologized. _"Did I wake you? Sorry."_

Oikawa shook his head. Iwaizumi nodded; Oikawa watched as he turned so that he was facing Oikawa as he brought the speaker back towards his mouth, caught _we'll meet you there in an hour_ and hung up. Oikawa waited patiently, wrinkled his nose and nodded to prove his attention when Iwaizumi said his name.

_"Get dressed. We're meeting Hanamaki and Matsukawa at the grocery store."_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"...That sounds like an incredibly adult and boring playdate," Oikawa remarked dryly._

_Iwaizumi scowled._

_"Stop calling them playdates."_

Oikawa knew Iwaizumi cooked, he just didn't know how well. When they didn't order food, even in high school, Iwaizumi was normally the one to scrounge through their kitchens. The past few days he'd only been able to make ramen but that was because Oikawa had just about no groceries left; a grocery trip was actually on his to-do list, but while Iwaizumi's presence was enough to motivate him to get out of bed and go to his couch, venturing into public was pushing the limited energy Oikawa had.

But Iwaizumi was magnetic and Oikawa found himself following because as tired as he was, if it was for Iwaizumi, he felt like he could do just about anything.

"Trust me, one of Iwaizumi's meals is way better than whatever you've been ordering. He's really good. Saved Hanamaki and me from starvation during college, even though he probably wanted to just let us die at some point. I actually think it's because of us that he ended up getting so good at cooking."

Oikawa smiled briefly and dropped his eyes to the cart. There was a clear distinction between what he'd added and what Iwaizumi did; while chips and ramen and other instant foods were piled in one side of the cart, fresh vegetables and pantry staples lined the other. Iwaizumi had added in meat that Oikawa bragged he'd also bought before; Iwaizumi had stared at him incredulously, answered that buying the most common cut of beef wasn't anything to brag about. Oikawa then retorted that it _was_ when Iwaizumi kept acting like all he made was ramen.

_"Okay. What did you add the beef to, then?"_

"..."

"..."

" _You're no fun, Iwa-chan."_

"Were you three roommates?" Oikawa found himself asking.

"For a few years, yeah, but then Iwaizumi moved out to-"

Matsukawa cut off abruptly and Oikawa didn't have to clarify why. He instead turned to look at what else was in the aisle they were waiting in, ended up reaching for a spicy chicken ramen that he tapped off the shelf and into the cart. "Living with couples isn't very fun," Oikawa said. "Poor Iwa-chan. Hope Mattsun and Makki were considerate."

He didn't have to look over to know that Matsukawa was blushing and Oikawa smiled again. "Does Mattsun want to stop by the make-up aisle here? I can help you hide the hickey on your neck."

"What-"

Oikawa looked over to see Matsukawa clap a hand to his neck and couldn't help his grin as he sang, "Kidding!" in a way that he also knew being in public was his only saving grace from not being hit, even by Matsukawa.

Matsukawa glared, a blush still ebbing on his cheeks as he lowered his hand. Oikawa smiled again before looking away, eyes lingering at the rows of colorful packaging on both sides of the aisle. On the way here, Iwaizumi had explained that he'd invited Matsukawa and Hanamaki over for the day to hang out because the four of them hadn't been together in a while, then looked at him with a small frown.

_"I can tell them to leave if you get tired or anything, just let me know. Or I can leave-"_

_"Iwa-chan," Oikawa interrupted and Iwaizumi immediately fell silent, the two coming to a stop at a crosswalk. Oikawa tilted his head and smiled._

_"Trust me, I never want you to leave. You never have to worry about that."_

Oikawa meant what he said; he never actually wanted Iwaizumi to leave, even if sometimes he was too tired to talk. Oikawa had become so accustomed to being by himself that it had become his new default, and yet once he was friends with Iwaizumi again, it was so easy to spend all the time he could with him because being with Iwaizumi was better than being alone. Iwaizumi made it even simpler by seemingly being able to read his mind; when Oikawa would fall quiet, he'd always know whether Oikawa would prefer for it to stay that way. Oikawa never knew how Iwaizumi just _knew_ ; sometimes it would be logical, like a conversation ending and Oikawa not bothering to start a new discussion, and other times it would be abrupt, Oikawa mumble a half-hearted reply that neither spurred further responses or properly closed the topic, and yet Iwaizumi wouldn't push it.

However, it didn't take someone with Iwaizumi's caliber of Oikawa Senses to pick up on his reluctance to talk about Atsumu, which Iwaizumi tested just that one time and never again. Oikawa, honestly, even didn't want to ask about his progress, despite the professional side of him tickling to do so; after the initial irritation of Iwaizumi gently forcing him to admit the role of his pride in treating Atsumu, Oikawa was relieved for even a small break from pushing through the burning in his chest at seeing him. However, pride didn't vanish overnight and when he quietly asked how the second session went, Iwaizumi had hesitated, then mumbled that it went fine.

_"What was with the pause, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa asked delicately as they turned another corner. Iwaizumi had asked if his knee was good enough to walk on and Oikawa had nodded; with not working out or even leaving his apartment over the past several days, it had given the joint the time it needed to recover. He'd feel the standard ache every now and then, particularly if he tried to overexert himself, but the casual stroll they were taking wasn't bothering him and, as a physiotherapist himself, he knew it was the recommended exercise regiment. "You have to at least be a little surprised I didn't ask after the first session."_

_"...He's asked about you both times," Iwaizumi mumbled. "Not in a bad way, just wanted to know where you were, so I told him to shut up."_

_Oikawa made a face. "Iwa-chan's rude to my patients when I'm not there…"_

_"He'll get over it."_

_Oikawa heard quick footsteps and high pitched shrieking behind him; he didn't even have a chance to look over his shoulder before he felt Iwaizumi's hand on his waist, pulling him close just in time for some kids to sprint by. Oikawa was still wondering about Iwaizumi's telepathic senses when he heard him apologize and release his light hold, the lack of touch instantly leaving him feeling empty._

_"Let's switch sides."_

_Oikawa blinked; Iwaizumi had stepped behind him and Oikawa instinctively moved to where Iwaizumi had originally been walking, kept his eyes focused downwards because even when they'd been in high school, Iwaizumi had seldom done that. He willed his heart to stop racing, told himself it was just out of consideration of making sure a child didn't ram into his already injured knee._

_Then he thought about how gently Iwaizumi had held his waist and almost considered lying about needing to retie his slip-on sneakers to have an excuse to keep his head bowed for more than a few seconds._

_"Atsumu… isn't a bad guy, you know."_

_Oikawa blinked in surprise at the mention and raised his gaze. Iwaizumi kept his eyes steadfastly forward, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly hunched. When Oikawa had officially become taller than him, Iwaizumi had had perfect posture for a few weeks before he gave up, grumbled that it was too much effort and wouldn't even matter because Oikawa always naturally stood straight._

_"Hm?" Oikawa stared. "I know, I'm not actually that serious when I say he's a devil's spawn-"_

_"He reminds me of you sometimes," Iwaizumi said and glanced over, smiling slightly. "When I met him, you were the first person I thought of and that made me hate him but also keep an extra watchful eye on him. And I think that's why it's extra hard for you to deal with him."_

_Something instantly flooded Oikawa's chest, a mix of warmth and cold that left him feeling both drowned and flustered. He swallowed thickly and tore his gaze away, brow knitting because Iwaizumi had once again read his mind. He shifted and just cleared his throat when he heard an apology. Oikawa kept his eyes closed for the next few steps, took a deep breath that the fresh air didn't follow as much as he would have hoped and licked his lips._

_"...Will Iwa-chan let me buy milk bread today?" he asked in a small voice._

_A laugh._

_"Yeah. Guess that's fine."_

"You and Iwaizumi are acting pretty domestic," Matsukawa noted and Oikawa hummed, eyes looking at him without the rest of him moving, save the languid smirk curling his lips.

"Mattsun… surely you don't need me to remind you what happened between us, right? We're just friends."

Matsukawa blinked and when he opened his mouth and inhaled, Oikawa instantly pursed his lips into a frown, eyes narrowing. He cleared his throat to interrupt him and dropped his hand so that both forearms were to the cart handle, wrists crossed easily as he asked, "Has Mattsun thought about making his domesticity with Makki official? When's Mattsun going to propose?"

Matsukawa's eyes widened; Oikawa was pleased with how successful his diversion tactic worked when he watched Matsukawa's cheeks turn red. Oikawa was surprised that they weren't engaged already; even if he hadn't been there for most of their relationship, Oikawa seldom knew a time where Matsukawa and Hanamaki weren't already painfully obvious with each other. It was just a matter of time and while Oikawa fully expected and looked forward to being part of the wedding, he tried to not think about the inevitable self-reflection would follow or imagine how it would feel to stand at an altar, look across and see Iwaizumi and not be marrying him.

He supposed it could be worse; he could be standing at the altar as Iwaizumi's best man, watching him marry someone else

Oikawa physically winced at the thought, couldn't help but commend himself on actually hurting himself without that specific intention.

Hearing footsteps, he lifted one elbow to be able to look over his shoulder and saw Hanamaki approaching, holding several bottles of juices and coffees along with a fish. Oikawa pulled a face, mumbled that it was definitely Iwaizumi who would be paying and watched him dump everything into the cart. Oikawa silently reached forward to pick up the fish, lay it gently over everything, if only to avoid Iwaizumi throwing a fit when he returned. Hanamaki rolled his eyes and when his gaze landed on Matsukawa, faltered and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, did you break Matsukawa or something? Why's his face like that?"

"N-nothing," Matsukawa said immediately and Oikawa smiled, so pleased with the new reversal card he'd discovered. "I-I was just about to ask Oikawa if he wanted me to set him up with my coworker."

Hanamaki shot him a strange look that Oikawa didn't quite understand the reasoning for. Matsukawa glared back, specified, " _Other_ coworker. I have more than one."

"More than two people work in a funeral home?" Hanamaki asked.

"Of course," he answered and turned back to Oikawa and shrugged. "Nice guy and just got out of a long relationship, so he's not looking for anything serious, and I doubt you are either. He's pretty chill, so I think he'd be a good match for you."

"Since when has Mattsun decided to take up matchmaking?" Oikawa asked with amusement, tilting his head and smiling. He held Matsukawa's gaze for a moment and then switched to Hanamaki; based on the way he was also just staring at him, Oikawa deduced they'd talked about this before. His smile slowly curved into a frown; he began to scan the aisle when Hanamaki supplied that Iwaizumi was off hunting for a certain seasoning.

"I'm not looking to date," Oikawa said in a low voice, let his eyes fall back to the cart full of groceries. "Or to get laid. But thanks, Mattsun, glad you're thinking about that."

"I know a barista," Hanamaki offered. "Cute _and_ she could hook you up with free coffee-"

"I'm not trying to date someone," Oikawa repeated and wrinkled his nose. "Is this what you did with Iwa-chan? Did you two throw people at him?"

"No," Hanamaki answered without missing a beat, "because Iwaizumi's not the type of guy who needs a distraction, but you are. Look, it's not a bad thing, you two just cope in different ways."

Matsukawa bobbed his head. "We're just worried about you," he added and Oikawa's glare relaxed slightly. "Iwaizumi didn't give us a lot of details why he wanted us to hang out today but I think we can venture a guess and this is something that we might be able to help with. I mean... it's hard to move on from an ex you're still hanging out with."

Oikawa blinked and realized with startling clarity that his friends did have a point, wondered when his rose-tinted glasses turned into a blindfold.

Whenever he looked at Iwaizumi, Oikawa would immediately feel a serenity fill every crevice of his body; Iwaizumi made him so inexplicably happy just by existing. It was only when Oikawa's gaze would linger and his mind would wander, remember their breakup, remember Himari, remember everything else that the calm would be hiccuped with something that made Oikawa look away; it existed, the pain, it happened and it existed and Oikawa thought he would always feel it.

But whenever he felt the pain, he'd feel the happiness first and foremost. And with Iwaizumi constantly at his side, it was even easier for Oikawa to pretend otherwise; he didn't have to remember that they'd broken up when Iwaizumi was holding him and reminding him to breathe. He didn't have to remember how Iwaizumi had almost married Himari when he was cooking ramen for Oikawa. He wasn't even able to think about their breakup when Oikawa was doubled over in an effort to hold himself together when remembering the exact moment he'd torn his ACL, feeling that same pain jolt through every single limb and through his heart.

Oikawa didn't know how to move on from someone who he was spending every minute of his days with, but he also absolutely didn't want to be away from Iwaizumi. His heart ached for him; when Iwaizumi was close, Oikawa wanted to hold his hand, grab his face and kiss him senseless but with their history and knowing how Iwaizumi felt, he knew that would only end up with them hurting each other again. The most he could do was shyly take his hand under the guise of needing his support about his knee and Oikawa hoped that even if Iwaizumi knew he was using this excuse, that he didn't mind.

In high school, whenever he'd been dumped, Oikawa would spend the next few days or weeks following Iwaizumi around like a depressed puppy. After a break up, space was one of the only guaranteed ways to move on from a relationship; Oikawa knew that. After all, it was impossible to sever that connection and lessen someone's presence in his life when he was with them, and yet he'd spent the last seventy two hours with Iwaizumi and had no intention of leaving him, whether for the next seventy two hours, days, or years.

That time apart after a breakup was what mended the remnants of a relationship that had already broken, vanished the pieces so that putting it back together wasn't even an option, and maybe that was why Oikawa didn't want to be away from Iwaizumi.

He'd said talking about Himari felt like closure and he'd meant it. Hearing about Iwaizumi moving on felt like hearing about him ending the possibility of _them_ and on one hand, Oikawa understood and agreed. They had been so bad at dating that it wrecked a friendship he was certain the stars had aligned to create and foster; trying to date tore them apart so catastrophically that Oikawa could still see the strain of an eight month relationship ten years later.

But at the same time, Oikawa wasn't quite ready to put it all to rest yet.

Even if Iwaizumi had moved on, Oikawa had never been one to let someone else's perceptions or actions decide something he hadn't personally accepted. It wasn't a hope that they would date again, he thought; Oikawa couldn't quite put it into words, but some part of him was so unwilling to accept that the way they felt about each other would amount to nothing after all. He didn't want to be with Iwaizumi in that way, he thought, he wanted to be with him, exist with him, have him in his life, support him and be supported by him, but dating him left his knees weak in the worst way, took a blade to the weak stitches holding him together.

Maybe it was hope, Oikawa had thought numbly to himself at three in the morning with Iwaizumi asleep less than ten meters away. Maybe the romantic side of him still clung onto that hope, but just wasn't ready to admit it and because he knew it wasn't fair to ask Iwaizumi to wait until when, and _if_ , he would be ready, secretly keep that hope nestled into the deepest echelons of his heart until Oikawa was ready to extinguish the flame himself.

He was being hypocritical, he knew, but if logic always trumped emotion, he thought the world would be a lot less confusing.

Being with Iwaizumi made him happy, even when he was trying to move past breaking up with him. Spending time with him brought Oikawa a peace that he knew wasn't only because this was someone he had once dated; the tranquility he felt was because Oikawa swore their souls were made for each other and whether or not they'd dated, whether or not they'd had romantic feelings for each other, this serenity was embedded into the cosmic composition of their beings.

Oikawa loved being with him; existing next to Iwaizumi brought him a solace that nobody else, romantically or platonically, could. When they were together, Oikawa swore that something in the universe fell in place and all the noise, all the chaos, all the entropy would come to a halt and everything would be peaceful, everything would be serene, everything would be calm, everything could feel right because the core of the way Oikawa loved Iwaizumi transcended breakups and heartache.

Oikawa loved Iwaizumi in the big way that people wrote movie scripts and sagas about, the sort of love that inspired magnificence and legends, the kind that never ended. He'd known this since high school and people could tell him all they wanted that what he felt was puppy love, that that wasn't _real_ love, they were just kids, but they weren't Oikawa and he knew exactly what he felt: something so horribly embarrassing embroidered in the center of his chest that made him want to tell everyone just how much he loved Iwaizumi, because that was the only way for him to properly express it, the kind of love where he would absolutely ruin himself for Iwaizumi a million little times.

 _That_ kind of love.

He loved him in the way that would never go away; it wasn't just a first love and it wasn't just puppy love, this was the absolute real deal that Oikawa had fantasized about ever since he could read romance novels and manga. He loved him in a way that swept him off his feet, a way that made Oikawa want to be a better person, because Iwaizumi was the sun and nobody could ever be enough for the sun, but for Iwaizumi, Oikawa would try for all of eternity.

The way Oikawa loved Iwaizumi was the stuff that fairy tales were born from, what Cupid's arrows were made out of, and what encapsulated the whole spirit of Valentine's Day, and it made Oikawa absolutely nauseous and want to crawl out of his own skin. _That_ kind of love that would never end, that persisted even through a decade of _I hate him_ , the kind of love that even a lifetime of hurt couldn't overcome because in his past lives and his future ones, Oikawa was sure that he'd always find his way back to Iwaizumi's side.

When he loved Iwaizumi that much in such an overwhelming way, even the idea of casually dating someone else felt like he was being unfaithful to a relationship that had long ago stopped existing.

"I don't want to date anyone," Oikawa mumbled again, smiled ruefully. "I get your intentions, but…"

Oikawa hesitated. His brow furrowed and after closing his mouth, he pressed his lips into a thin line. His forearm returned to where it had been and he started to pick at a nail, couldn't help but remember when Iwaizumi had a habit of biting his nails and they'd spent an entire summer in high school trying to get him to stop.

(What eventually worked was Oikawa saying that whenever Iwaizumi bit his nails, he would too.)

"The only person I want is Iwa-chan," Oikawa admittedly quietly. He chewed on his lip for a moment and then shrugged slightly, tilted his head. "...And honestly, I don't know if I can handle wanting him like that. Or if I want to, even if… I want him."

Oikawa bit his lip. "...I don't really know what I want."

Neither Hanamaki or Matsukawa responded at first, their silence greedily filled with the sound of blood rushing through Oikawa's ears from a pounding heart. Oikawa wasn't sure what his blood carried through his veins, but it left him chilled and with every moment of silence that passed, Oikawa didn't like what his friends would have to say, even if he couldn't read their minds the way he could Iwaizumi's.

"Oikawa, don't… don't take this to the extreme, okay?"

He glanced over and saw Hanamaki gaze at him pensively. "I'm not suggesting you force yourself to get over Iwaizumi before you're ready or to date him again if you're not. You have a lot going on and Iwaizumi didn't say any of this, so it's just what Matsukawa and I think and we could be wrong, but this limbo you're in… we think that's hurting both of you and making it hard to really move on, even if you don't realize it."

Matsukawa nodded, offered a smile. "We're not saying the next person you date has to end up as anything, it can just be one date. But it might be worth it to just try going out with someone once. Maybe it'll help you realize what you want and who you want it with."

"Again," Hanamaki added, "do _not_ take that to the extreme, Oikawa."

Glaring lightly at Hanamaki, Oikawa's ears twitched to hear familiar footsteps. He looked over just in time to see Iwaizumi return, holding a small jar and some scallions. Pushing himself up, Oikawa smiled and shook his head when Iwaizumi asked why they all looked like that.

"Did they say something stupid?" Iwaizumi asked, turned to glare at Hanamaki and Matsukawa. "What did you two do?"

"Huh, this must be how Oikawa feels when Iwaizumi just randomly accuses him."

"It's not fun."

"Shut up, I'm usually right."

"Hey, you got more green onions? Didn't we already get those?"

Oikawa found himself cradling his chin in his hand again, staring absentmindedly at Iwaizumi as he started bickering with Hanamaki. He couldn't help but smile, picking up the faint flush on the back of Iwaizumi's neck, the way the collar of his shirt was slightly lopsided and how the tag was on the verge of sticking out. There was a small wrinkle on the sleeve closest to Oikawa and as Iwaizumi gestured, he could see that the other sleeve had a fold in it. His brow was knit and left eye twitched, scowl growing prominent across his lips but when Oikawa reached out his hand to gently fix his collar, all instances of annoyance immediately disappeared when Iwaizumi turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Just fixing your collar," he mumbled, flicked his eyes to meet Iwaizumi once he was done and smiled as the flush spread from the back of his neck to his cheeks. "Is Iwa-chan done? Shall we go?"

He loved Iwaizumi so much it was sickening and watching Iwaizumi arguing just now had Oikawa realize that what he wanted more than anything was for Iwaizumi to always look that carefree, the greatest concern in his life being arguing with Hanamaki about whether scallions and green onions were the same thing.

(They weren't, but Oikawa didn't want to be the one to burst Hanamaki's bubble.)

Stepping away from the handle, Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi until he glared but took control of the cart. Iwaizumi pushed it forward enough until he could lean his forearms to it and maneuver it that way, Hanamaki walking next to him and talking about all the drinks he'd added. Oikawa tugged Matsukawa's sleeve until they lingered more than a few steps behind and he flashed him a tired smile.

"...I'm not ready for any kind of a commitment," Oikawa said quietly. "but I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to try just one date. I think it would help me figure out what I'm actually feeling."

Matsukawa's eyes widened; his steps faltered but he regained his composure soon enough and nodded, clearing his throat quietly. "So you're…"

Oikawa shrugged, rested his hands in his pockets. He kept a watchful eye on Iwaizumi and Hanamaki; felt the corners of his lips quirk upwards whenever he saw Iwaizumi get agitated.

"You and Makki are right," he admitted quietly. "It's one thing if it's just me but… I have to let Iwa-chan go too. I thought he'd moved on with Himari-chan, but it's confusing if he knows how I feel and how we're always together."

Oikawa's eyes moved to look at Matsukawa, smile stretching, one corner higher than the other.

"I can find my own dates, though. No offense, but I'm not sure if I can trust you two as matchmakers."

* * *

"Is Iwa-chan going to cook again tonight?"

"You spent all day yesterday complaining about having to grocery shop and help out and now you're expecting another meal?!"

"But Iwa-chan's washing vegetables and has a box of curry roux out…"

Oikawa smiled easily as Iwaizumi glared over his shoulder, turning off the faucet with his forearm and shaking the carrots dry before setting them on the cutting board. Oikawa moved aside obediently without Iwaizumi needing to gesture, saw the direction he turned and assumed that Oikawa would naturally be in the most inconvenient place possible. As he expected, Iwaizumi opened the cupboard that Oikawa had just been blocking, pulled out a pan. "We can order in again, you know. Iwa-chan doesn't have to cook if he doesn't want to."

"I didn't say I didn't want to," Iwaizumi said, though he didn't quite set the pan down yet. "Unless you want to."

Oikawa immediately shook his head, smiled brightly. "I'd never turn down free, home cooked food, especially from Iwa-chan. He's actually a lot better at cooking than I thought."

Iwaizumi glared but Oikawa caught the way his cheeks colored before he grumbled for him to shut up, setting the pan down onto the stove. He retrieved a knife and peeler from the drawer Oikawa had pointed him to yesterday; Oikawa hovered by him, wondered if he'd be asked to peel any vegetables after the mess he'd caused yesterday.

Iwaizumi glared at him again. "Go sit on the couch. I'll call you when it's done."

"Iwa-chan doesn't want my help?"

"No, there aren't enough vegetables left to risk it."

Oikawa huffed, mumbled that Iwaizumi just didn't understand Oikawa's culinary vision as he made his way to the couch, Iwaizumi calling over his shoulder that Oikawa was culinarily _blind_.

In his defense, Oikawa really could cook. It just so happened that while Iwaizumi's cooking was at a level where he was capable of eliciting harmonious balances of flavors that both he and other people would enjoy, Oikawa focused more on edibility and nutrition than taste. So Oikawa didn't really care if he cut the onions properly or if he diced potatoes evenly; he just needed them chopped enough that they would cook and fit in his mouth.

One of Oikawa's colleagues had mentioned they were surprised because they'd thought he was the type to excel at cooking, including presentation and flavor profiles. Oikawa explained that his concern was making sure his meals had all the required daily intake levels suggested for optimum health.

He then bit into a very unseasoned piece of a chicken and tried to not let it show on his face how dry and chewy it was.

Once he was on the couch, Oikawa laid down, long limbs splaying over the ends until he curled himself up. The pillow and blanket Iwaizumi used were folded and placed neatly off to the side and Oikawa smiled in amusement, picked up the remote on the coffee table and watched the television flash to life. Once he found the channel his favorite drama aired on, he turned up the volume enough to definitely catch Iwaizumi's attention but low enough to still be able to hear him.

Oikawa had known why Iwaizumi invited Hanamaki and Matsukawa over the moment he mentioned their names, but hadn't really fully appreciated it until later that evening. Oikawa had been in a perpetual state of fatigue that even sometimes Iwaizumi's presence wasn't enough to ameliorate, but because being with Iwaizumi was never draining, Oikawa didn't mind that he was almost constantly with him.

But that afternoon of watching Iwaizumi manage to produce dinner even with the three of them accidentally and purposely sabotaging him in the kitchen was one of the few times where hours would go by and Oikawa wouldn't think about that aching in his chest, was able to laugh and not think twice about it. He'd caught Iwaizumi's eye a few times throughout the night and always smiled brightly at him, silently reassuring him that he was all right.

There were a few times he'd catch Matsukawa's eye afterwards and his smile took a moment longer and he'd always immediately tease him to change the topic.

Oikawa didn't want to date anyone, including Iwaizumi, even if he was the only person he wanted. He didn't quite know how to make sense of what he was feeling and while he'd been all right staying in this quiet limbo, of not quite moving on but not quite wanting to be with him, what he didn't feel as comfortable with was if Iwaizumi was also stuck in a purgatory that he'd managed to get out of once.

Oikawa wasn't purposely trying to keep him here, figuratively in that in-between or literally in his apartment; he'd mumbled several times that if Iwaizumi wanted to leave or if he had matters to attend to, he was more than free to go, that Oikawa would be fine by himself. Iwaizumi had always declined, said that he took the week off; during one day when Oikawa was feeling more irate than he cared to admit, he snapped that he didn't need Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi immediately nodded.

_"I know."_

_Oikawa faltered, surprised at the answer. His expression then resumed its glower and he folded his arms over his chest. "So then why do you keep insisting on staying here? If I need you, I'll call-"_

_"I'll leave if you don't want me here, Oikawa. Of course I will," Iwaizumi said quietly. "...But if you want me to stay, then of course I will because, honestly, I'd… really like to stay with you."_

Oikawa couldn't say for certain if Iwaizumi's definition of staying at his side was the same as his own and he was scared that he was unintentionally pulling Iwaizumi back into pining over an old relationship. For that reason alone, he was willing to try and move on, even if this sort of relationship-purgatory was one of the only safe spaces he felt like he had left.

Being with Iwaizumi was one of the few things that made the swelling anxiety about his knee recede, but thinking about this brought a whole new bout of nausea. He was done hurting Iwaizumi, and yet he couldn't help but feel like he was doing so anyway by taking advantage of Iwaizumi's self-sacrificial nature. He wasn't sure if he was blurring the line between accepting the offered help as a friend and overstepping his boundaries, knowing how Iwaizumi still felt for him.

He felt something burn in his throat and winced. Leaving the television on, Oikawa closed his eyes and rolled over onto his other side, knees bent as he buried his face in the cushion, felt a slight throbbing in his knee.

When he'd woken up this morning, he'd heard Iwaizumi already up and about outside. He'd felt it even before he'd pushed himself up into a sitting position, but the heaviness in his chest weighed him down so much he rounded his shoulders, as if a night of foregoing lingering on the feeling only served to double it down, like his mind was punishing itself for actually not reveling in his misery for a few hours.

Oikawa didn't know how to make sense of what he was feeling. In just a week he'd gone from feeling so heartbroken over losing Iwaizumi and feeling like he wasn't enough to Iwaizumi being the only reason he felt like he could hold himself together. Oikawa wondered if relativity mattered when it came to feelings, if it was because the agony of his knee was more encompassing than losing Iwaizumi, then maybe allowing himself to feel that dwarfed the pain of losing Iwaizumi.

But, Oikawa knew, that wasn't it, because losing Iwaizumi was the absolute worst thing he'd ever had to survive.

Oikawa didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he was waking up, eyes bleary and throat dry. He exhaled through his nose and brought a hand slowly to his eyes; the apartment was dark except for a faint glow that came and went. Oikawa took another moment to recognize it was the television and when he remembered that he'd been watching the drama he and Iwaizumi had been, the thought of Iwaizumi had him gasping and sitting up.

"Christ-Oikawa, what's-"

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa looked to his side, saw Iwaizumi sitting on the ground against the couch and staring at him, a mix of bewilderment and concern laced in his features. "S-sorry, what time is it? Did you eat already or-"

"I've been keeping it warm, it's fine," Iwaizumi said, shifting so that he could be facing Oikawa without having to crane his neck. "Don't worry, it's just curry."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Oikawa asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to find any electronic to figure out what time it was. "Iwa-chan worked so hard-"

"I don't think you realize how easy curry is to make…"

"Iwa-chan, seriously-!"

"You don't sleep a lot, so I figure when you actually are asleep, I should let you," Iwaizumi explained softly, eyes creasing in concern. Oikawa could feel his guilt still clearly manifest in his expression, even with how dark it was and angling his face away, so he wasn't surprised when Iwaizumi shifted to be closer, voice gentle. "What's wrong?"

Oikawa frowned, pointedly dropped his gaze and brought his right knee to his chest. Iwaizumi sighed; Oikawa heard him stand and after a few moments, the kitchen lights turned on. By the time Oikawa's eyes were accustomed to the soft glow, Iwaizumi was back to where he originally was, facing him and hand just centimeters away from Oikawa's. "What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly. "Is it your knee? Is it hurting?"

Oikawa shook his head, the way he traced circles over the joint was reflexive. He immediately stopped and opted instead to press his palm to his knee instead, the warmth soothing. Taking a deep breath, he slid his foot further up against the seat; his knee remained propped, yet was closer to the couch than before and Oikawa was able to round his back. "Iwa-chan, please promise to tell me the truth, okay?"

Iwaizumi was silent and Oikawa could hear the way he swallowed.

"...Okay."

"You being here with me for my knee," Oikawa said quietly, unable to meet his gaze, "...it's just as a friend, right?"

Iwaizumi's breath hitched. Oikawa could see the way his eyes froze for just a moment with panic and when he withdrew his hand, Oikawa clenched his to keep from instinctively reaching out. "Sorry," he mumbled and looked away, "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, I just… I wanted to make sure."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi answered in a low voice and frowned, "I just want to be here for you as your friend, but if I've made you uncomfortable or pressured-"

Oikawa shook his head and Iwaizumi fell silent, save the small sigh of relief. "That's not why I was asking, don't worry," Oikawa mumbled, scratched his nails along the couch as his fingers furled and unfurled slowly, just for some sort of movement to focus his mind on. "I'm not trying to hurt you when I say this, Iwa-chan, but… I don't want to hurt you by accident either."

Iwaizumi nodded, the way his chin moved feeling slow and dragged out. "...All right."

"I'm… not ready to date anyone," Oikawa said, rounding his shoulders and looking away, "even just a short fling that's supposed to mean nothing, I don't want that because the only person I want is…"

His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. "...And I don't think I'm ready for anything with that person beyond just friendship," he said in a voice just a graze above a whisper and knit his brow, unable to bring himself to look at Iwaizumi. "But… I'm afraid that I'm pulling you back into the same spot where I am. I don't want to give you any mixed signals or false hope-not that I assume that's what you want, I just…"

His cheeks were so red that even if he buried his face in a pillow, he felt Iwaizumi would be able to tell. Clamping his lips shut, Oikawa brought both hands to grasp at the ankle of the leg that was folded beneath him, nails digging right next to the protruding ankle bone.

His heart pounded in his chest so harshly it threatened to capsize his stomach and Oikawa was afraid of what other words would spill out of his mouth if he let his lips part again. Even when he inhaled, he pressed his lips together and did so through his nose; the fresh air was little relief for the pulsating pressure in his chest and when Oikawa's right knee ached suddenly, he bit his lip to keep the pain from showing, wondered what the cure for psychosomatic pain was.

"I know," Iwaizumi said gently and Oikawa found his eyes making a beeline for Iwaizumi's before he could think otherwise. He could be lying, Oikawa knew; Iwaizumi wasn't good at lying, but there were a lot of things Oikawa didn't think Iwaizumi was capable of doing until he was doing it for him. But Iwaizumi was smiling in such a relaxed way that promised honesty and Oikawa felt a relief that soon gave way to a small pang of disappointment he wasn't sure why he was feeling. "Don't worry, nothing you said hurt me, I had already thought all of that. I didn't want to assume anything, but based on how breakups go… I figured you might be somewhere there or oscillating."

Iwaizumi shrugged, looked away. "They're hard to get over, especially when the person who you broke up with is still at your side. I'm not expecting or hoping for anything from you, I'm really… really just here to support you as your friend."

Iwaizumi's hand was resting on the couch again and when he noticed Oikawa staring at it, he began to withdraw. Oikawa immediately let go of his ankle and took Iwaizumi's hand, looked up when he stopped moving. The movement had been instinctive; Oikawa only fully realized the implications of his action when Iwaizumi was staring at him and he stiffened, ultimately decided to smile sheepishly, relax his grip but in no way lessen it. After a moment though, he began to pull his hand back. "Sorry, I don't know why I…"

Before he was able to completely sever the contact, Iwaizumi took his hand and met Oikawa's eyes with a small smile. "It's fine. Whatever you need or want, I'm here for that."

Oikawa's eyes fell to their hands, loosely lacing his fingers with Iwaizumi's after a moment. The touch was so light that it was almost ticklish but instead of a laugh threatening from his chest, Oikawa felt only the jolts racing through his body, all originating from where Iwaizumi's skin met his. "Mattsun and Makki both offered to set me up with people," Oikawa admitted in a small voice, "which is why I started thinking about all this."

"I know," Iwaizumi answered easily and Oikawa blinked, tilted his chin to look at him. Iwaizumi met his gaze with a small smile. "I asked them to."

Oikawa stared at him silently, felt both something warming his cheeks and leaving his chest cold as he mumbled, "Oh." His fingers stilled for a moment at the realization, but before Iwaizumi really had a chance to pull his hand back, Oikawa squeezed his hand gently, tracing slow circles on the back of Iwaizumi's hand.

"Now that you said all of that, though, I feel like I was wrong," Iwaizumi said and Oikawa glanced at him, cheeks still feeling warm. He faltered for a moment and cleared his throat. "Everything you said about me… it's true. The way I feel for you… you're not wrong about that."

Oikawa wasn't sure if Iwaizumi knew how badly his stomach plummeted at that.

"But," Iwaizumi continued, "I thought back to how I felt after our breakup and thought back to how you were in middle and high school after breakups. I was worried that me being here would make it even harder, so… I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to tell you how to deal with this, I just didn't want to feel like I was making it harder than it already is."

Iwaizumi fell silent and Oikawa didn't say anything. The drama continued and Oikawa watched the casted shadow from their linked hands ebb and flow, depending on whether the airing scene was light or dark. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few moments and gave a small sigh. "...You're right," Oikawa confessed in a low voice and knit his brow. "I'm scared to want to be with you, but I'm scared to try and move on and I can't just be in this limbo forever, I don't think that would be fair to either of us."

If Iwaizumi weren't here, Oikawa thought that after enough alcohol, there was a good chance he'd already be in someone else's arms or be holding someone because he was the type of person to deal with loss by trying to forget about it as soon as he could. Iwaizumi's presence was a reminder of what he felt for him because if it weren't for that, Oikawa knew what his defaulted coping mechanisms were. It was only because of Iwaizumi's existence as his friend that Oikawa was able to keep them at bay; when Iwaizumi was with him, he never felt lonely and while that in itself wasn't innately a bad feeling, what was harmful was that it kept Oikawa from feeling a need to really move on from him.

He knew how Iwaizumi felt about him, and he knew how he felt about Iwaizumi. He also knew that Iwaizumi, at the end of the day, would sacrifice himself entirely for Oikawa without him asking. Oikawa could easily destroy both of them under the guise of feeling safe because the familiarity that he felt toed dangerously between how supportive their friendship had been and how drowning their relationship had been.

"Thank you," he said softly and looked up, the pressure in his chest lightening slightly. Iwaizumi graced him with a small smile, nodding.

Iwaizumi had moved on and as much as that still hurt Oikawa to think about, he'd been able to move on and almost start a new life with someone else. That meant that it would be possible for Oikawa as well and, even more importantly, Oikawa couldn't drag Iwaizumi back into that addictively unhealthy space of wanting something that was so easy but unfair to both of them.

"You've really matured, Iwa-chan," Oikawa noted softly, a small smile gracing his lips. "I mean in high school you were still already a lot more mature than the rest of us, but… even more so now."

"The standard of maturity wasn't super high," Iwaizumi mumbled and Oikawa laughed shortly.

"Yeah, but still, there's a reason everyone on the team looked up to you so much," Oikawa continued, kept the same curve on his smile. "After our breakup… in my head, I kept you as your teenage self all this time and even then I… exaggerated the absolute worst qualities because that was the only way I could blame you for my knee."

Iwaizumi froze for maybe just a second, but it was so glaringly obvious to Oikawa. He kept his easy smile perched on his lips, though his grip on Iwaizumi's hand tightened. Oikawa brought his other hand to rest on top of his right knee, unable to hide the way it trembled until his palm met his leg.

His breathing felt staggered as soon as his mind thought about his injury; Oikawa tried to keep calm, but the uneven way his lungs were inflating and deflating caused the rest of his body to tremble, felt a familiar dread racing from the center of his chest like thin ice about to give way to a meteorite. He vaguely saw Iwaizumi moving, felt the weight of the cushion dip when Iwaizumi took a seat at the edge of the couch, right in the space between Oikawa's folded leg and his propped knee. He felt a warmth hovering over the hand on his knee, their laced fingers on the couch never threatened, but the feeling disappeared in favor of his hand cupping Oikawa's face.

He inhaled sharply at the contact and looked up. Oikawa was met with Iwaizumi's gentle gaze and in just that moment, an expression that made Oikawa's heart drop was the only reason he didn't entirely fall apart. Oikawa closed his eyes and exhaled. His body still jerked with every breath and every beat of his heart, and yet that terrifying moment where he felt like he was going to shatter had subsided and he was still very much in one piece, held together just by Iwaizumi's face cupping his cheek.

It was perplexing, the way that just moments ago, Iwaizumi had been why he felt like he was going to spiral and now Iwaizumi was why he felt like he'd be okay when nothing had changed, not really.

"I blamed you, as unfair as it was," Oikawa said finally, opening his eyes and focusing his gaze on his knee. "I… I think I had to because even in high school… just the idea of losing volleyball was overwhelming and this wasn't just a sprained knee and a few weeks of rest, this was… I lost everything. If I didn't have you to blame it on, I don't…"

Oikawa was still for a moment and then leaned into Iwaizumi's hand because the last thing he wanted was for him to draw back but knowing him, had a feeling that would be his instinct. He reveled in the touch for a few seconds before opening his eyes to look at him, smiling at the way Iwaizumi was looking at him, a soul-piercing honesty that left Oikawa feeling like he was living in a daydream.

"Admittedly, I was mad at you," he continued and cleared his throat, pulled back and Iwaizumi withdrew his hand, though rested it over Oikawa's hand that was still on his knee. "I was still so hurt over our breakup, but I focused everything onto being angry because I couldn't let myself be honest over how devastated I was to lose you. I blamed you for walking away, I blamed you for our relationship getting to that point at all, and when you tried to reach back out again, with how furious I was, I… I just wanted to hurt you back. And when I did that, it was… it was horrible, but it was the first time I felt any kind of relief.

"If I didn't have all that anger, I don't know what I would have done because all of that made it possible to survive. Feeling the loss of both you and volleyball would have… I think it would have broken me beyond repair. So…" Oikawa squeezed Iwaizumi's hand lightly, felt pink dusting his cheeks. "Even though it was during a time when I thought I hated you, you still helped me, even without being there for me, even without knowing anything. Just your memory and your existence helped me to survive it."

Oikawa felt guilt flush the back of his neck and if Iwaizumi's hands weren't covering his own, he would've brought one to try and hide the color. It seemed so distant now, all that misplaced fury and deluded hatred, intentionally hurting Iwaizumi and actually taking delight in it. Oikawa couldn't even say that he wasn't himself; he was the absolute worst version of who he could be to the person he cared about more than anyone. He still considered it a miracle that Iwaizumi had been willing to give him a second chance because while Oikawa knew that he and Iwaizumi were harder on themselves than each other, he really, truly didn't think that he deserved his kindness after being so malicious towards him.

He'd been so entitled because even if Iwaizumi had his faults in their relationship, Oikawa was the one who allowed a failed romance to sever a lifelong friendship, even when Iwaizumi tried to reach out. And then when he didn't try again, Oikawa had been angry at him; even if Iwaizumi had contacted him a second time, Oikawa didn't think that he would have answered. Not even after the third and maybe not even the fourth; Oikawa didn't want Iwaizumi to reach out because he wanted him to fight for him back then, he wanted him to reach out over and over so he could keep turning him down, as if doing that would make up for how hurt he'd felt by Iwaizumi in high school.

All of that ugliness contorted itself into a hardened shell of who he was and Oikawa had completely shut down the tender core that held what he felt for Iwaizumi. So little had changed; after everything, once he was finally true to who he was, the surge of emotion that Oikawa felt for Iwaizumi was still the same. He loved him with everything he had and wanted the best for him; after all this time, the love he felt was still pure and untainted by everything that had happened. Once he stripped away his arrogance and pride, once it was just a matter of what he felt, it was the single truest thing Oikawa knew to exist in the universe.

"...In my mind, you were solely to blame for our breakup," Oikawa continued quietly, shrugging weakly. "And because of our breakup, I threw myself into volleyball. And also because of our breakup, you weren't there to watch over me and because you weren't there to watch over me, I pushed myself too hard, so to me… it was your fault. And then because of the breakup, you weren't there to help me through it… basically, everything traced back to our relationship ending."

Oikawa's thumb traced a circle on the back of Iwaizumi's hand. Looking up, he waited until Iwaizumi's dark eyes lifted as well to smile, albeit shakily. "Of course, I don't think that now," he added, still not entirely convinced when Iwaizumi answered him with a weak smile of his own. "Because all that time, I was just using you as a scapegoat. I didn't want to admit my part in why we didn't work out and that even if we were still friends, what I did was still my fault. You've always been there for me and looked out for me, but I'm still my own responsibility. I can't expect you to always be taking care of me."

Iwaizumi didn't respond but the way he hesitantly squeezed Oikawa's hand had him smiling.

"If I hadn't blamed you, I think feeling all of that at once…" Oikawa's voice trailed off. "...I try to be strong, but…"

Oikawa waited until all the air in his lungs had been exhaled and then waited several seconds until his chest ached to inhale.

"I've felt my heart break twice," Oikawa mumbled and right before he closed his eyes, he saw Iwaizumi's head raise with a start. "Once was… I assume Iwa-chan knows," he said, voice almost inaudible. He licked his lips and cleared his throat weakly. "The second was losing volleyball. I… I loved it."

Oikawa's brow knit, felt that familiar weight sinking his chest and rattling it as the anchor sank. "I loved it _so_ , so much for such a long time, it… it was my entire life. I thought it was the absolute most important thing to me. It had such a big part in defining who I was and who I am today. It shaped my entire childhood and I put absolutely everything that I had into it and losing it…" Oikawa's breath hitched and he shook his head tightly. "Losing it not because of a freak accident but because I pushed myself too hard, because _I_ messed up, it… it…"

Oikawa hadn't realized that he was gripping his knee until Iwaizumi's low murmur of his name. His eyes flew open with a start, just in time to see Iwaizumi force Oikawa's hand away. Iwaizumi's grasp was gentle but firm, hand slipped Oikawa's and his knee, fingers curled over his palm. He was gazing at him steadily with dark eyes, his brow knit in a way that made Oikawa both want to shrink away and bury his face in his chest.

His cheeks felt flushed; his chest felt warm and Oikawa averted his eyes. "…It was entirely my fault," he said in a tight voice, "I… I messed up. Nobody else. It was entirely on me and knowing that, realizing that, it… I couldn't. I couldn't take the responsibility for that, I had to blame someone else because that felt like something unforgivable so I pinned the blame on you because if everything was your fault, it was just easier. But…"

He bowed his head further and closed his eyes again.

"…It was my fault," he muttered, head dropping further, felt the strain in his spine. "It was… it was entirely my fault. I'm the unforgivable one. I'm the one I hate. I'm the one who I'll never be able to look at again, and I don't know how I'm supposed to live with myself. I left Tokyo because I didn't want to be around people but it wasn't only that, I felt like I didn't belong anymore—"

His arm was shaking and it took Oikawa a minute to remember why he wasn't feeling a pain in his knee, despite how harsh his hand's grip was. When he remembered he was clenching Iwaizumi's hand he immediately loosened his hold, though Iwaizumi murmured that he was fine and it didn't hurt. His arm remained trembling; his chest felt immobilized, incapable of either inhaling or expelling air and Oikawa couldn't see anything besides flashes of white and red in his vision. He didn't even realize that he was clutching Iwaizumi's hand tightly again until he felt Iwaizumi's other hand on the back of his neck, the light press of his fingers to his neck feeling like Oikawa just crash landed after free falling.

He gasped, eyes flicking up with his jerked chin. Iwaizumi had moved so close that his thigh was pressed along Oikawa's folded leg, the back of one hand against Oikawa's knee and the other light against the nape of his neck. Iwaizumi's gaze was smoldering; it always had been and the fact that Iwaizumi wasn't intentionally having this effect only heightened its efficacy. He looked at Oikawa with such gentle determination and Oikawa kept grasping his hand tightly, like it was the only thing that kept him grounded as he felt tears pressing to the back of his eyes, lining his lower lashline and threatening to spill.

"Tooru," he heard and it was hard for him to breathe, "are you okay?"

"…No," he answered honestly as his vision cleared. His breathing was still shaky, but at least he was able to make out what was in front of him, fully recognize Iwaizumi's warm touch. But even as Oikawa tried to cling onto that, his mind was reeling, the dizzying sensation somehow made worse when he closed his eyes. "…No, I'm not. I'm not and I don't—I don't know how I'm supposed to be. I… I thought this past week would help with finally talking about this, but it's not, I'm just—fuck, I don't know how I'm supposed to move on from this," he said breathlessly, wondered how in the world Iwaizumi wasn't even flinching from his bone-crushing grip on his hand.

He'd thought that feeling it little by little would make it bearable when he finally allowed himself to think about what had happened, what he truly felt, and his part in it, but that absolutely wasn't the case. Everything was spinning and nothing felt tangible; Oikawa was just about to start free-falling and he didn't know how long it would take to hit rock bottom.

"I'm… I'm so jealous of Atsumu," he admitted in a strained voice, swallowing thickly. "I'm unbelievably jealous and the only reason I've been able to do my job is because of my petty, worthless pride. I wanted to show to myself and the world that I could overcome this. I wanted to show people how strong I am, but… but that's not the right motivation. And when I first saw him… he comes in with—"

Oikawa shook his head. "It's a bad injury, it's one of the worst, but his prognosis was good, and he _knows_ it. Doctors don't give you false hope, so if they tell you that you'll be fine, it's just about the best news you can ask for. Me?"

He grinned, but it didn't match the look that he knew would be reflected in his eyes if they were open.

"Nobody told me that. Nobody ever gave me any inkling of hope, I had to force it on my own, and that just made it worse. But I still tried. I didn't show up to my first session wallowing in self-pity the way he—it's so frustrating, and even now that he's trying, it's… now it's just maddening because he'll be fine. I know it's not fair," Oikawa mumbled, shoulders rounding. "I know it's not, I don't need anyone to point that out, but it's how I feel. The only thing keeping me in that room is my pride and that's a far cry from the selfless image I'm hoping people think when they see what I'm doing. So in the end…"

He took a deep breath and furrowed his brow, felt tears spilling from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. After several more followed the fresh trail, his eyelids fluttered open, gaze focused on nothing in particular. Oikawa's entire body relaxed and slumped, like he'd given up because it felt like he'd let go of something that he'd been clinging onto for ten years, finally admitted to himself that it was gone and would never come back.

"In the end," he said shakily in a small voice, "I ruined my own career and my own dreams and in a field where compassion is important, I'm fueled by anger and petty pride. I'm a horrible person—I'm even jealous that Atsumu still has Sakusa and people around him, even though I know _I_ was the one who pushed everyone away. But—"

With every day that passed, Oikawa realized more and more just how isolated he had been for all those years and couldn't believe it hadn't struck him sooner. He wondered just how alive he had been, if for ten years he didn't notice how horridly lonely he'd been with nobody in his life and refusing to let anyone in. Atsumu would never have to go through that and if Oikawa did absolutely everything wrong during his injury, it seemed like Atsumu was on the path to doing everything almost as right as one could in these circumstances.

It was unbearable, how jealous Oikawa was of him.

"I'm a horrible person," Oikawa said in a tiny voice, head bowing even further. "I ruined my career. I ruined our relationship. I almost ruined my friendship with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. I ruin everything important to me. And my motivation for this job is so selfish and-"

"Tooru, listen to me."

Iwaizumi had been so silent that when he finally spoke, Oikawa found himself listening immediately, looked up despite knowing how flushed his cheeks were, how red his eyes. Iwaizumi had seen him at his best and his worst, and then seen him at low points that Oikawa didn't know he could reach. Iwaizumi had seen him in his entirety and he'd never left and there weren't very many things that Oikawa was willing to entirely trust, but Iwaizumi's loyalty was one of them.

One look at Iwaizumi was all it took for Oikawa to inhale deeply, lungs filling despite rattling bones and trembling breaths.

"You're not a horrible person," Iwaizumi said gently, tilting his head, gaze searching. "You're not selfish and you're not weak. You willingly went into a field where you knew that it was likely you'd have to treat athletes from your sport for the same injury that ended your career. That's brave, Tooru. That's brave and selfless. I've seen how hard you work for Atsumu… even when we weren't getting along, you really think I'd willingly tell my team how good you are?"

Oikawa's eyes widened, cheeks flushed with something besides tears. Iwaizumi's lips twitched and he shook his head gently. "When you put your mind to something, you don't half-ass it. You work so hard to make sure you're doing your absolute best and the fact that you have feelings about it, doesn't make you anything other than human. What says more than how you feel is how hard you try despite those feelings."

Oikawa's breath caught in his throat and he was about to shrink away, felt too vulnerable under Iwaizumi's kindness and honesty when he saw him lean in. Iwaizumi's eyes closed and Oikawa was too surprised to do the same, his own wide open as Iwaizumi touched their foreheads together gently, the hand on his neck moving to cup his cheek. The warmth from his hand wasn't all that had Oikawa's cheeks smoldering, especially not when Iwaizumi's eyes opened again, half-lidded and gazing at him with so much ardency that Oikawa was fairly sure the atoms he was composed of were struggling to remember how they were to be arranged.

"You're the strongest person I know," Iwaizumi said quietly, "and it isn't because of the way you're able to push through your feelings. It isn't because of how well you compartmentalize. It's because you feel things so deeply and so intensely but in the end, you always come back and you always do the right thing. You've made mistakes, but who hasn't? You have good intentions and in the end, those are what you stay true to. You're someone who I can rely on because I know that if it matters, you'll pull through in the end. No matter how hard it is, I can trust you and that's so rare, especially with how unimaginably difficult something like this is."

Oikawa tensed when Iwaizumi shifted, but it was the sort of tensing that was in anticipation of something exhilarating. His breath caught in his throat at the exact moment Iwaizumi's thumb gently touched Oikawa's slightly parted lips; that was all it took for Oikawa's eyes to close entirely and he couldn't help but swallow. It took every ounce of willpower for him to not move, neither lean towards or away from Iwaizumi's thumb, even as it skimmed over his mouth, came to a tentative rest at the corner of his mouth.

Oikawa so badly wanted to kiss him and without his thumb in the way, was afraid to know just how close Iwaizumi's lips were. The moments before a kiss, before any kiss, were filled with so much tension and electricity but with Iwaizumi, it was filled with an entire thunderstorm. Oikawa didn't trust himself to breathe. He didn't trust his body with any sort of movement because he was afraid that if even a lung moved, the rest of his body would lurch forward to press their mouths together.

He wanted to kiss him; Oikawa wanted to kiss Iwaizumi so badly that he felt every well articulated and thought out argument against doing so dissolve under the immense heat coiling inside of him, knowing that Iwaizumi Hajime was so close, that a few centimeters were all that separated them. Oikawa didn't care about consequences anymore; he didn't care at all, not when Iwaizumi was so close it was intoxicating and Oikawa wondered why he ever needed alcohol when all he had to do was bring Iwaizumi this close to him.

Oikawa wasn't ready for a relationship with anyone, much less with Iwaizumi, but Iwaizumi was the only person he wanted. Iwaizumi was the only person Oikawa wanted to kiss, the only person Oikawa wanted to touch, the only person who Oikawa could trust wholly, even if Iwaizumi was the only person who had ever shattered him so completely that it felt irreversible. Iwaizumi could break him that badly only because Oikawa trusted him with that power.

He still did, after everything, because only the person who decimated him could put him back together.

Their noses brushed and the contact of their foreheads had lessened, fleeting touches ticklish. Oikawa felt like time had stilled and felt his heart keep racing, a deficiency of oxygen still secondary to anticipation of a kiss that he truly didn't know would happen, but he absolutely wanted. He didn't care about anything except kissing him, wanting to melt into Iwaizumi and kiss him until he couldn't breathe or feel his lips and then keep kissing him because all the logic in the world would never hold a flame to Oikawa Tooru's innate desire to kiss Iwaizumi Hajime.

He felt a sharp inhale bring a cold over his lips and instinctively gasped. But the warm pressure he so desperately wanted never came; instead, Oikawa just heard Iwaizumi breathe _fuck_ , felt the forced whisper brush over his lips, like a ghost of a missed kiss. He pulled away at the last moment and if Oikawa had leaned just a little closer, his lips would have grazed Iwaizumi's cheek. Eyes fluttering open, he saw Iwaizumi with the back of his hand to his mouth, face turned away. Oikawa raised his own to the side of his face that Iwaizumi had been holding, his fingers dancing along his jaw.

His lips pressed into a thin line and he bowed his head, exhaled so shallowly and slowly. His lungs filled with air but Oikawa barely cared about that, focused more on his lips feeling like they were missing something they never felt and his racing heart slowing with slow, rhythmic beats. Disappointment and relief both raced through his veins as the adrenaline faded and Oikawa's mind cleared, magic giving way to reality and dawn turning to morning.

"S-sorry about that," Iwaizumi said in a low voice, still not looking at him but blush dark enough to tinge on his cheeks.

Oikawa managed a brief smile, shook his head slowly and swallowed. "Like I said, Iwa-chan, you… you never have to apologize for that. Or… or almost that."

Iwaizumi lowered his hand but still wasn't looking at him and Oikawa dropped his eyes, focused on their hands on his knee. He passed a thumb over the inside of Iwaizumi's wrist, felt the tendon visible between the blue veins prominent through the thin skin. His lips pressed into a thin line again as they sat quietly, tried to use numbness to forget the memory of the sort of _what if_ that would keep him up long past when the moon would start to fade. It wasn't the sort of silence where anything needed to be said, and yet it felt so heavy that Oikawa didn't know what he was supposed to do. His worst fear was Iwaizumi pulling away but as seconds ticked by and he indicated no such intention, Oikawa relaxed. Once the adrenaline rush of the _almost_ became the tail end of a memory, Oikawa was realizing that for the first time in years, he felt like he could really, truly breathe.

His chest still felt heavy, his heart still felt like that of a dead man. Oikawa's mind was still buzzing and brimming, but it was all so much less than before; he'd felt so suffocated like someone was holding a pillow to his face and even if it was still hard to breathe now, he could at least imagine otherwise. He'd taken ten years to be able to admit all of this; it wasn't the type of heartache that healed in just one night with one conversation, it was the type that took time and patience and that feeling it little by little was all Oikawa could do.

As long as he had Iwaizumi, though, Oikawa thought that he'd be all right.

"…People say that things like this get better with time," Oikawa heard after almost an entire minute of silence. Oikawa glanced up, saw Iwaizumi still staring off to the side, profile ending with a strong jaw that Oikawa lingered on before focusing on his furrowed brow. "Hurt and forgiveness, I mean. When you go through more pain than you think is fair for any single person to feel, it's supposed to get better with time."

Oikawa's cheeks prickled with heat and he swallowed. Guilt wove through him when he remembered how he'd assumed Iwaizumi didn't care about their breakup and wasn't hurting; he'd said just a few sentences, but they were so poignant and quiet that Oikawa's entire body ached. An apology sat at the tip of his tongue for something he didn't know if Iwaizumi knew he'd accused him off and he closed his eyes.

"And?" he prompted quietly.

"…Eventually it does," Iwaizumi answered quietly. His gaze relaxed, shoulders following with his next exhale. "But… nobody tells you how long it takes. It can be literal years that you're walking out with what feels like the weight of the universe on your heart. You eat your favorite food, you can't taste it. You hang out with your favorite people, it's like you're still alone. You try to meet new people and pick up new hobbies, but you think about what you lost in the first place."

Oikawa swore his heart was climbing up his throat to jump out of his body.

"But," Iwaizumi continued, eyes softening, "then one day… you wake up and it's a little easier to breathe. You… start being able to taste things again. You can even smile. That weight is still there and…" he paused to laugh breathily, shaking his head. "This might not be reassuring to hear, but it never leaves. I'm pretty sure that pain is always going to be something that's with you and you… learn to live with it. You use it to remind yourself to never make the same mistakes."

Oikawa's lips were pressed in such a thin line that even when he relaxed, they felt numb for several seconds. He swallowed to try and curb the rising lump in his throat, but the hotness pressing to the back of his eyes didn't lessen. Bowing his head, he squeezed Iwaizumi's hand and the pressure he felt in return was almost enough to have him start crying again.

His heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, like if he looked down, he'd seen an imprint of it through his shirt. He'd felt his heart break two times in his life and while one heartache was the kind of healing pain that ebbed, the other felt like it was threatening to pull him apart at his seams. It came and went; Oikawa would think that he was fine with being just friends with Iwaizumi, that this was the best option after everything but right now, he yearned for him so badly that imagining not being with him was the only thing that could overpower how shattered he'd felt about volleyball.

But then he'd remember how badly their relationship had ended and how they'd lost each other, how he didn't think he could survive that again, how that might've been a sign from the universe that no matter how much they loved each other, sometimes people were better meant as friends.

And yet, his entire body felt like it was swallowing itself whole and Oikawa thought it was cruel of the universe to make it so painful to be with and without someone, but not having them in their life was the worst of all.

"I miss you," Oikawa breathed, didn't need to specify that it wasn't about their friendship.

Iwaizumi didn't say anything at first and then he sighed, the slightest of waves carried in the breath. Oikawa bit his wobbling lip, kept his head bowed because this time he couldn't and didn't try to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes. Everything hurt and it felt like being okay was something that was over the horizon that he kept running towards, something he theoretically knew existed but could never attain. His chest felt like it was caving in on itself. His heart felt shriveled. He couldn't stop crying; his hiccuped breaths were growing louder and his shoulders were shaking; Oikawa didn't know how to stop everything he was feeling and, for once, didn't feel a need to.

Iwaizumi squeezed his hand again and by the time Oikawa returned the gesture, he didn't know whose hand had started shaking first. All he knew was that Iwaizumi was the only person who could break and heal his heart at the exact same time, give him everything he needed and leave him wondering if he'd ever be whole again.

He leaned forward until his forehead met Iwaizumi's shoulder, immediately felt his arm come around him, hand carding through his hair as Oikawa kept crying. He heard Iwaizumi give a sigh, felt it in the way his chest moved, the way his exhale threaded through his hair and Oikawa wondered, he really wondered, how it was fair for love to be this exhausting and painful. "I miss you too," he admitted.

Iwaizumi shifted and Oikawa felt his chin rest on top of his head.

"…More than I thought I could ever miss someone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tonight's chapter update is sponsored by miss taylor swift who is dropping a whole second surprise album when i'm still here, churning out the fic that her first surprise album inspired. taylor, please let me breathe but also thank you so much
> 
> and thank _you_ all, as always, for reading!! the support motivates me a lot to try and update on a somewhat regular schedule :) 
> 
> so, again, thank you! kudos/comments immensely appreciated ♡


	16. still got love for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he’d see the iwa-chan who broke his heart a million times in eight months but put it back together a million and one times over the course of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the entire first half of this chapter is pulling the weight for the tagged background sakuatsu, so if you don't care about them going on a little onigiri date, feel free to skip straight to the second scene that starts with "do you want anything to drink? wine, beer, soda, water?". in the first scene, the italicized portion that starts with "how was last week?" is oikawa's apology to atsumu, in case you'd be interested in reading that

"Oikawa-san apologized ta me, which was kinda weird."

Sakusa nodded in agreement.

"Anyone apologizing to you is strange. Usually you're the one in the wrong."

Atsumu's glower was short lived; as soon as he saw the way Sakusa's eyes closed briefly in that particular way when he couldn't help but faintly smile beneath his mask, Atsumu instinctively relaxed his expression. When he'd first met him, it had been impossible for Atsumu to discern his facial expressions beneath his masks; Sakusa's eyes would squint and Atsumu would flinch, wonder if he was trying not to laugh or plotting his murder.

But now, as Sakusa adjusted his mask, closed his eyes and moved his chest with a sigh, Atsumu knew that he was smiling beneath the white cotton and if Sakusa was smiling, then Atsumu (embarrassingly) was too. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he bit his lip to try and suppress his lips from curving, Atsumu absentmindedly straightened his shoulders. He only did this in three occasions: around Osamu, to try and prove that he was definitely taller; when being interviewed, to try and appear taller; and when around Sakusa, for reasons he was still trying to figure out because he absolutely knew that unless he kicked the back of his knees, Atsumu would never be taller than Sakusa and if he did kick the back of Sakusa's knees, he would not survive.

Besides Oikawa apologizing to him during that morning's session, Atsumu's entire day so far had been fairly normal:

He went to his session with Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

He went to practice with Iwaizumi.

He was threatened by Iwaizumi to not do anything stupid.

He tried to do something stupid and was yelled at.

He spent practice yelling out encouragement to Bokuto and Hinata and his voice only abruptly cut off two times because he'd accidentally made eye contact with Sakusa.

This was his thrice a week routine that he'd finally grown comfortable with. The only deviation today was that when practice ended, instead of deciding if he wanted to text Osamu first or just crash by Onigiri Miya, Atsumu stood outside the locker room, hands folded and pressed between the small of his back and the wall. Atsumu had asked Hinata and Bokuto to not ask Sakusa if he could stay and hit a few extra balls with him; when they asked why, he made up an excuse about Oikawa saying it wasn't good for his wrist. They'd believed it wholeheartedly; Atsumu was sure it was only a matter of time before Iwaizumi would catch wind of Atsumu using Oikawa's name in brazen lies, but that was an issue he would deal with later.

Atsumu knew that unless Sakusa had a reason to stay late, he'd be the first into the locker room, the first to shower, and the first to leave. They were adults; there wasn't any sort of order when it came to showering, but Sakusa wasn't the type to stand around and loiter, not only because of his stoic personality but also because of his germ vendetta. Atsumu was already beginning to feel his nerves fray; practice ran long and the extra hour he spent on the bench had his good knee bouncing and fingers fidgeting to the point where Hoshiumi came over and point blank said that if he needed to go to the bathroom, it was right there.

Atsumu snapped that he did not need to go a little too loudly.

As expected, without Bokuto and Hinata asking him to stay, Sakusa was the first to disappear into the locker rooms. Atsumu took a deep breath; he zipped up his jacket and made his way through the building and waited patiently for Sakusa at the other entrance to the locker rooms because Sakusa always entered through the same entrance and left through the same entrance. When the door opened, Atsumu didn't even need to look up to confirm who it was, just straightened and said, _"Omi-kun."_

If Sakusa was surprised, he didn't show it. Atsumu watched him glance over his shoulder and step to the side; he neatly folded the handkerchief he'd used to open the door and slipped it into his pocket. Giving a nod, he adjusted one of the loops of his mask over his ear and Atsumu's eyes may have lingered a moment too long on that. _"Atsumu,"_ he returned with a nod. _"Do you need something?"_

Atsumu licked his lips, prepared to voice a three word sentence whose wording, intonation, and tone he spent hours agonizing over.

_"…Wanna get dinner?"_

And so now Atsumu found himself on a last-minute date he'd spent the last seventy two hours mentally preparing for.

For years, the two of them had only two consistently safe topics to discuss in person: volleyball and judging others. Atsumu spent much of his free time reviewing old tapes and while he theoretically could just start talking about formations and techniques with Sakusa, he found that he didn't really want to. He didn't just want to talk about volleyball to his volleyball teammate; he didn't want Sakusa to be someone he only talked about volleyball with and he didn't want Sakusa to be only a teammate. Sakusa's last bit of personal trivia he'd willingly shared was that he found dogs cute, but there were no dogs in the vicinity for Atsumu to bring up; he thought it would be too obvious and try hard if he pulled out his phone to show Sakusa some videos he'd found online and cursed him for being so annoyingly secretive.

Atsumu wanted to talk about whatever he wanted to with him; Sakusa would often dryly remark something that Atsumu found himself laughing at, wondering if Sakusa knew that he was actually capable of being funny. He didn't want their relationship to be limited to their careers and their one interest; he wanted to expand beyond that because he wanted to know Sakusa outside of Sakusa Kiyoomi, outside hitter for the national team and wanted Sakusa to know him outside of Miya Atsumu, setter for the national team.

The tricky thing was how to let Sakusa know that without letting him _know that_.

Their recent text messages had been spare, but it also wasn't as if they texted a lot before. Atsumu reached out under the guise of needing a recommendation of a new detergent; he wanted to smack himself from the lamest excuse in the world, but Sakusa had never replied so quickly and with so much detail in his response, leaving Atsumu wishing he'd asked literally _anything_ else so that he could distinguish if the reason for the effort in his response was because of Atsumu reaching out or Sakusa's ridiculous agenda against germs.

Sakusa was one of the few people who never came up to ask him how his knee was, but if the two of them ended up being next to each other, he'd quietly ask. If the entire practice would pass by without them having such a chance, Atsumu found that he could rely on Sakusa slipping it into his next response, either with a link of exercises that _Oikawa-san may want to incorporate into your routine_ or _you shouldn't walk around that much if you're limping_. Even when he was being chastised, Atsumu couldn't help but feel an embarrassing high school cliche of a flutter in his stomach at realizing this was how Sakusa showed his concern, would shoot back _says the one spiking like it's match point after just recovering from a shoulder injury._

There was one time where Sakusa happened to pass by just as Atsumu took a seat on the bench after being yelled at by Iwaizumi. He'd taken a seat next to him under the guise of adjusting his knee pads when he asked how he was feeling and Atsumu, hating that he'd been waiting, nodded a bit too quickly, said the session went fine.

 _"Oikawa-san's kinda a jerk, though,"_ he added.

Sakusa would smirk faintly. _"He does seem quite intolerable."_

Sakusa had left to return to practice after that but a lightbulb went off in Atsumu's head, as he found a solution to one of his many problems. It had been so simple, he thought, the solution had been in front of him all this time, three times a week, driving him absolutely crazy and Atsumu had ended up learning about detergents for no reason at all (though his laundry had never smelled better.)

And so, Oikawa finally presented a purpose.

Their conversations weren't nearly as rapid fire as the group chat, but Atsumu would shoot off a quick complaint about Oikawa whenever the mood struck him, and Sakusa would normally answer relatively quickly. It was nice, he thought as he pocketed his phone, to have someone to talk about Oikawa with; Iwaizumi was entirely smitten and head over heels with him, but at least Sakusa could still see him clearly for the devil he actually was.

Reaching a familiar store front, Atsumu reached his hand out to open the door. He saw the way Sakusa's nose wrinkled beneath his mask and so once they were inside, Atsumu looked him in the eye and pulled out a bottle of hand sanitizer. Even though he missed his hand the first time, he didn't with the spurt the second time and maintained eye contact until he was finished thoroughly cleaning his hands.

Atsumu never thought this would be one of his flirting tactics but when he saw how Sakusa's eye twitch in an effort to fight the urge to smile, he was glad to have stocked up on several years' worth of hand sanitizer during one late night, drunken, online shopping spree.

"Tsumu," he heard in a lazy drawl, "stop tryna seduce Sakusa-san right at the entrance. Yer scarin' off customers."

Atsumu's head whipped around to glare at his twin, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a hand holding back one of the half-curtain panels. His other rested on his hip, though came up to lift his black Onigiri Miya cap just a bit as he nodded towards Sakusa. "Hey there, Sakusa-san. Good t'see ya."

Sakusa nodded. "Good evening, Osamu-san."

Atsumu didn't appreciate that Sakusa was perfectly respectable to Osamu when even upon first meeting, it had been _Miya_ and then straight to _Atsumu_ ; Atsumu had never been graced with an honorific before and wondered why Sakusa _only_ referred to Osamu with an honorific. He was still bitter over this when Osamu rolled his neck to look at him again, chin lifted. "Tsumu, yer gonna pay me this time, right?"

Atsumu bristled and, before he could help it, stomped his foot. "I always pay ya!"

"Only when I tell Ma and she makes ya."

Atsumu's eye twitched to hear a louder-than-usual exhale from Sakusa and when Osamu turned to return to the kitchen, Atsumu glared over his shoulder. Sakusa's only response was just an arched eyebrow and Atsumu found himself too focused on the two moles edging closer to his hairline. It left him so frazzled that he didn't notice Sakusa stepping off of the entryway and Atsumu had to hurry a few steps to catch up.

Atsumu wasn't a stranger to Onigiri Miya as a (free loading) customer, but he normally stood by the entryway to the kitchen for his free to-go bag, if only because Osamu had once whacked him with a ladle because he'd apparently risked his perfect health score rating by stepping over the threshold while in his street clothes. He realized he couldn't remember the last time he actually sat down in Osamu's restaurant to eat, wondered what that said about him as a person and as a date.

Whenever the team went out to eat, Sakusa would always sit in the most corner-esque seat and so when he chose the table and seat tucked all the way in the back, Atsumu was hardly surprised. One hand absentmindedly massaged his knee while the other teased out one of the laminated menus from the wooden holder, taken aback at how smooth it was, having expected it to be sticky from spilled miso soup and sodas. Atsumu's nose wrinkled as he wondered how he kept finding himself surrounded by people with such cleanliness tendencies. He considered himself neat and tidy to a normal extent but after being around Kita, Sakusa, _and_ Osamu, Atsumu wondered if he was actually below average.

"Does your knee hurt?"

Sakusa's voice interrupted his decision process of choosing between a smoothie or soda because even if this was a properly established business, Osamu was still the same brother who used to spit into his smoothies and tell him only when he'd finished drinking it all. "Oh, naw, just somethin' Oikawa-san recommended 'f I'm not doing anythin'. It's kinda habit," he explained. "Omi-kun, can ya do me a favor and order a smoothie so I know Samu's not gonna spit in it?"

Sakusa stared at him as if Atsumu told him he'd just killed a man and dumped his body into the trunk of his car.

Practice running long had worked in his favor; knowing Sakusa didn't like crowds, Atsumu had grilled Osamu on his customer trends to try and estimate when the best time would be. If it had come down to it, Atsumu supposed they could have gotten the food to go and eaten in a nearby park, which, by all indications, had the potential to be a perfectly fine date. However, this was Sakusa and Atsumu was fairly sure that if a pigeon shat on one of their onigiri, it would undoubtedly be his first and last date with Sakusa.

Osamu came by their table after a few more moments, holding a tray of onigiri. Atsumu wondered what the piece of paper sandwiched under his arm was until he set it in front of Sakusa with a matter-of-fact nod. "Our most recent health inspection," he explained and if Atsumu wasn't embarrassed about being the twin of someone who had physical copies of his restaurant's health inspection for customers, he was embarrassed to be with someone who nodded and began to actually read it.

Osamu looked over and smirked.

Atsumu wanted to die.

Sakusa gave another nod; when Osamu asked _done already?_ he explained he'd already read up on Onigiri Miya's health standards online and was just checking for any downgrades and Atsumu almost slammed his head into the table.

"Well, 'm flattered, Sakusa-san," Osamu drawled. "Good ta know you approve. Anyway, brought out some'f our bestsellers. These're for Tsumu, experimental flavors. And these," he paused and as soon as Atsumu made eye contact with Osamu, he had a bad, bad feeling.

"These," Osamu repeated in a louder voice, "are umeboshi ones, 'cause Tsumu said those're yer favorite."

Atsumu wanted to kill Osamu and then die himself.

"P-piss off, Samu!" he snapped. "Go clean somethin' 'nd maintain yer cleanliness rating!"

Osamu smirked one more time and left, but Atsumu still felt like he was doggy paddling in a pool of embarrassment. Umeboshi onigiri were incredibly common; they were a standard flavor, which was why Osamu _specifically pointing out_ that Atsumu brought them up as Sakusa's favorite was utterly humiliating. Unable to quite meet Sakusa's eyes, he grabbed the nearest onigiri and shoved it into his mouth. He wasn't sure what happened first, remembering the dangerous dollop of green or the explosive burn of wasabi in his mouth. His other hand just barely covered his mouth in time to catch the bits of rice that flew out with his coughing, tears welling in his eyes at the overwhelming taste filling his mouth. "Osamu-san," he heard Sakusa say calmly as Osamu's footsteps approached. "I'd like a strawberry smoothie, please."

"'Course, Sakusa-san."

"Samu, what the fuck!" Atsumu strained, hitting his chest and trying to revive himself. "Wasabi onigiri?"

Osamu turned towards him like some kind of a villain just about to reveal his master plan and Atsumu was _this_ close to taking the rest of the onigiri and shoving it in his mouth.

"Oh," Osamu answered easily and smirked. "Did I accidentally serve that to ya? Sorry."

Atsumu's following sharp inhale birthed another coughing fit that Osamu used to slip away. He was touched when Sakusa quietly pushed a glass of water towards him until he heard, "Stop spraying food everywhere, it's disgusting," and wondered why nobody was ever nice to him.

Finishing the water, the burn lining his tongue and back of his throat were more manageable, nothing some normal flavored onigiri wouldn't be able to cover up. Atsumu took another sip after refilling his glass before picking up one of the other onigiri Osamu had specifically said was for him and breaking it apart just to check the filling.

He glanced up to see Sakusa look like Atsumu had added that he'd chopped up the dead body and blood had seeped into the trunk's lining.

"Hey, it's Samu's fault," Atsumu defended and Sakusa just shook his head, using a napkin to pick up one of the umeboshi ones. "If he didn't trick me—"

"It had a dollop of wasabi on top," Sakusa said, unlooping his mask at last and setting it down on the table. "How did you not see it?"

"Thought it was decorative!"

"So that means you saw it and were still going to eat it all."

"Ya know what, Omi-kun—!"

Atsumu cut off abruptly when the door opened, bell bouncing cheerfully against the glass. He heard Osamu call out a welcome that the party chorused back; glancing over his shoulder, he estimated there were about six people and bit into a perfectly respectable chicken karaage onigiri. He turned away as they began to sit down, stools scraping against the ground, and asked Sakusa if he was enjoying his. When he nodded and smiled faintly, Atsumu knew the warmth in his chest wasn't because of wasabi.

Osamu came by again, his visit short this time because of the other guests, setting down a smoothie along with two sodas. Atsumu gave him a stink-eye that he returned with a glare and when he felt Osamu's eyes focus on the corner of his mouth, hastily grabbed a napkin to wipe off the rice that was stuck there. "Sakusa-san, are ya enjoyin' yers?" Osamu asked and when Sakusa nodded, Osamu seemed pleased. He then turned to Atsumu and glared again. "Still gonna make ya pay for the wasabi one."

Luckily for him, Atsumu had been mid-bite; Osamu was gone before he could offer a retort and just angrily grabbed the smoothie, stuck out his tongue at his retreating back. When he heard Sakusa note that smoothies at an onigiri shop weren't exactly common, Atsumu turned back to him and nodded. "Ah, yeah, 's not on menu, but I figure he's got fruits 'nd milk 'nd ice back there, so why not."

Sakusa stared at him like Atsumu added that it wasn't just one body in the trunk of his car, it was actually two.

He took a sip and when Sakusa was still staring at him, set down his glass. "…What?"

"That's considered rude," he stated and Atsumu glared.

"Well, he made it, didn't he!"

Either Osamu lied about hourly trends or this was a special night; the door opened several more times, various sized groups arriving and voices chorusing through the small shop. By the time they finished eating, the small shop was fairly busy; Atsumu looked over his shoulder and could see more people lining up outside, the door opening every so often for people to add their names to a waitlist. Atsumu spent most of their conversation ranting about Oikawa, but when people start arriving, he'd make little comments that Sakusa would either agree with ( _"who jus' drops trash on th'floor 'nd doesn't pick it back up?!" "I agree; uncivilized")_ or turned right back around on him ( _"ya think that guy looked in the mirror today when gettin' dressed?" "wouldn't be as distorted as whatever you looked in this morning.")_ When Sakusa returned from the washroom, Atsumu asked if he was ready; Sakusa pointedly looked at him and then his hands and Atsumu twitched. "I-I'm gonna wash 'em! Jus' wait fer me outside, 'll just be a few minutes."

Sakusa nodded and he slipped his mask back on, navigating between tables and bodies towards the exit. After Atsumu washed his hands, he veered towards the kitchen to loiter in a manner that most people considered suspicious but he liked to describe as proactive. As he hoped, it didn't even take ten seconds for Osamu to pop his head out and offer him a bag. "These're more experimental flavors. Lemme know which're good."

Atsumu bobbed his head, taking the bag. "So," he cleared his throat, "'bout the payin' thing—"

Osamu sighed. "Fer fuck's sake."

"Ya fed me wasabi onigiri!" Atsumu retorted and Osamu glared.

"Like you didn't feed me worse when we were kids!"

He had a point, but Atsumu wasn't about to let him know that. Osamu shook his head and waved him off. "Fine, fine, pay me next time or just keep bein' my taste tester. Some of those might be a bit weird, so I'll let ya off this time. Have fun on yer date."

Osamu disappeared before Atsumu could feebly try to deny that it wasn't a date and, being a good twin, decided to not get in the way of his work. Holding the bag up, he made his way to the entrance, managed to catch himself and use his elbow to push at the handle instead. He instinctively looked to his right to see Sakusa standing a bit away and called out _Omi-kun_ as he approached, felt a skip in his chest at the way Sakusa immediately pocketed his phone instead of finishing whatever he was doing.

Atsumu suddenly wished he'd taken longer. He didn't want to part ways yet, but it was dark and there wasn't really anything he could think to get Sakusa to stay longer; he still had to wake up early for practice tomorrow and knowing him, he most likely had a ten step skincare routine to go through before going to bed at a specific time he'd calculated by measuring his own sleep cycles.

(Atsumu hated he kind of found that image endearing.)

He wondered if he could get Sakusa to drive him home and buy them about twenty extra minutes; Sakusa was one of the few people who actually owned a car and while Atsumu wondered why he'd willingly _drive_ in Tokyo, once he realized his intense dislike of crowds and germs, he understood, though would have found it hilarious to see what sort of expression Sakusa would be making if taking any one of the trains during rush hour.

"Do you want a ride home?"

Atsumu blinked but immediately nodded and hoped he'd been able to play off the way his feet almost tripped over each other. Sakusa nodded; they'd been approaching a junction where they would separate with the gym being one day and Atsumu's station the other, but the both turned the same direction and Atsumu hoped Sakusa's steadfast, straightforward gaze wasn't catching sight of the faint blush on his cheeks. This was one of the few areas where sidewalks weren't excessively narrow, but Atsumu decided to test his luck and walk close, see just how little distance he could achieve before Sakusa said anything.

Even when their shoulders touched, he didn't.

Atsumu had been in Sakusa's car a few times before, mostly from their Black Jackal days. Sakusa usually wound up being the designated driver and it took Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto almost half a year to figure out that he actually did want to be the designated driver so he had an excuse to not drink. When they figured that out, they began to focus more on the pre-gaming and skipping going out entirely; the three of them were more than capable of having a good time by themselves and if nobody needed to get home, Sakusa had no reason to not drink.

That was also the story of how the three of them crashed at Sakusa's apartment for the very first time.

And that was also the very last time.

Atsumu hadn't been in Sakusa's car for a while, though, and as they approached the gym parking lot, he found himself attempting to make small talk by asking if it was the same one. Sakusa answered with a succinct _yes_ and Atsumu embarrassed himself further by responding with _cool_ and wondered if it was too late to run onto the road, lay down, and wait to be run over.

They stopped at a light. "So Oikawa-san apologized to you?"

It took Atsumu a moment to focus on what he'd said and not just the low timber of Sakusa's voice. He glanced over; Sakusa was looking ahead but at the movement of his head, Sakusa's dark eyes fleetingly slated to meet his. He then adjusted his mask and looked forward again and Atsumu cleared his throat, nodding, wondered when something as brief and noncommittal as eye contact started to feel electrifying.

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it was… real weird."

_"How was last week?"_

_"'S fine," Atsumu grumbled, shifting in his seat. The session had just ended; Atsumu would usually gather up his things and leave with Iwaizumi or wait outside if he had to speak to Oikawa. But today Oikawa had not only asked Atsumu to stay for a few more minutes but also asked Iwaizumi to go buy them coffees. From the way Iwaizumi looked at him tiredly, he assumed that Oikawa had forewarned Iwaizumi of this and immediately was annoyed that he wasn't given any sort of a heads up._

_"Your knee is making good progress, so looks like Iwa-chan was able to do a good job. Did you like Nakami-san?"_

_"I like e'eryone in this place more than you," Atsumu huffed and Oikawa smiled, tilted his head._

_"Ah… I could say the same to you too, Tsumu-chan."_

_Atsumu scowled. He hadn't been surprised, exactly, when Oikawa didn't show up all last week and even before Iwaizumi explained why, he'd been able to venture a guess. He'd noticed the way Iwaizumi's brow was set so deeply that even when he tried to smile at him, it barely reached his eyes and he was even too tired to snap at Atsumu. It left him feeling annoyingly guilty because even before Iwaizumi reprimanded him during the last session, he'd known that he'd gone too far, fallen into old habits that he thought he'd rid after years of maturing._

_His sessions actually finished a bit earlier during the week and Atsumu realized that not only was it because of the lack of bantering, it was also because Oikawa would always take a few extra minutes in checking his knee and mobility. Nakami wasn't bad or careless; he was Oikawa's senior, but Oikawa, either because of his pride or personal experience, was so additionally thorough and it took his absence for Atsumu to realize._

_Rolling a shoulder to try and ease a tension in his neck, Atsumu reached his hand up instead when the tightness persisted. His phone buzzed and he instinctively went to check it; when he saw it was Sakusa, he felt his heart skip a beat, hoped Osamu's stupid twin telepathy didn't sense it because he'd never live this down._

_He hated being a twin sometimes._

_"I owe you an apology, Tsumu-chan," he heard and nearly dropped his phone, which would've likely sent a string of unrelated emojis in response to Sakusa's dry remark about Oikawa likely being the reason why Iwaizumi was so good at dealing with the numerous children on the national team._

_Sakusa added that at least he had a break from the worst one and Atsumu sent back a 'hahaha' before realizing Sakusa meant him and wished his phone let him retract messages._

_"…'Kay," Atsumu said slowly, locking his phone and pocketing it. He crossed his arms and leaned comfortably against the wall, eyes leveling to Oikawa's. Oikawa held his gaze for another moment before he looked away, bottom lip curved and jutting out just slightly. He was pouting, Atsumu realized; he was pouting because he didn't want to apologize because he was an absolute overgrown child—_

_"I've been unfair to you," Oikawa said, looking as if the words physically pained him to voice and then have to also hear. Atsumu blinked and watched him rub the back of his neck. "…I'm sorry."_

_"…"_

_"…"_

_"…'s that it?" Atsumu asked and Oikawa immediately glared at him. He couldn't help but smirk as he shrugged. "I mean, guess it's fine. Yer obviously not used t'apologizin'."_

_There came a sharp knock at the door, followed by Iwaizumi's muffled, "Atsumu!"_

_Atsumu stiffened, glared at the door even though he knew Iwaizumi wouldn't be able to see his expression. "I-Iwaizumi-san, ya can't eavesdrop! This's client-patient confidentiality!"_

_"I've been with you constantly at these sessions for weeks!"_

_"Also that's for therapists, Tsumu-chan."_

_Oikawa was looking annoyingly smug when Atsumu's eyes fell onto him again and it was his turn to glare. Inhaling through his nose, he crossed his arms and rounded his shoulders, hanging his head. He wondered if he could get away with a half-assed apology but when Iwaizumi rapped his knuckles against the door again, he audibly groaned, used a hand to messily comb through his bangs. "…'m sorry too, fer being an ass in general," he forced. He rubbed his nose and shrugged. "Yer a condescending, pretentious, preaching—"_

_"Atsumu!"_

_"Fuck, Iwaizumi-san, ya want me to apologize or not?!" Atsumu snapped. Oikawa seemed to be the calmest of the three, remained where he was and kept gazing at him evenly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Atsumu didn't appreciate that in the slightest and so tried to calm himself with a deep breath. "Anyway, as I was sayin', yer all that but I can be aggressive sometimes. Probably shouldn't've kept pushin' ya. Just got caught up in how evasive you were bein' and it pissed me off."_

_Oikawa's eyes fell. The room was tensely quiet for a moment, silence feeling like a noose around his neck with a quickly rising water level. He wondered if Iwaizumi would come in; he then wondered why he hadn't, why he kept standing outside and when Oikawa spoke, Atsumu realized that it was because of him._

_He felt like an idiot for not realizing it immediately because when it came to Iwaizumi, it was safe to assume the answer for everything was Oikawa._

_"…A part of my job, as much as I don't like it, has to do with emotional healing as well," Oikawa said and kept his eyes downcast. "It's easier with other injuries because I don't have such a personal history with them but with you as the setter for the national team and this injury… I should have used my experiences to empathize with you instead of shutting you down. All the extra work I put into your physical exercises doesn't make up for that."_

_Atsumu blinked. Oikawa had looked back at him, but a sudden instinct of evasion had his eyes looking away. "Will we be all right, Tsumu-chan?" he heard. "If you'd like another physiotherapist, you're more than welcome to ask for one. Iwa-chan says you got along decently with Nakami-san."_

_"…We're fine," Atsumu grumbled, brow knitting as he stared at a human anatomy diagram on the wall. He pressed his lips into a thin line and shrugged again, messing up the back of his hair with his hand. "Nakami-san's less irritatin', but I think I like yer approach better."_

_Atsumu saw him nod in the corner of his eye and only after, "Iwa-chan can come in," rang through the room did the door finally open. Iwaizumi was balancing a sleeve hugging two diagonally placed coffees, holding a third in his other hand. He'd used his elbow to open the door but once he was inside, set his drink down to be able to hand out the other two, glaring at both._

_"So you two are fine now?" he asked, looking between them. "Because I swear, if I have to toss one of you outside again—"_

_"We're fine," Oikawa said with a smile. "Tsumu-chan and I are best friends now."_

_Atsumu somehow almost ate the paper wrapping on his straw._

_"Like hell we are!"_

"He's not the worst guy, but he's still really annoyin'."

Sakusa hummed. With it being his first time back in Sakusa's car in probably almost a year and with their relationship feeling precarious, Atsumu sat exactly how he felt: stiffly and afraid to test just how much weight the seat could hold.

"You look like a mummified cat," Sakusa remarked and Atsumu was about to sharply retort when Sakusa rested a hand to the back of Atsumu's seat and craned his neck to back out of the spot.

Atsumu forgot how to speak until they were out of the parking garage.

Once outside, he cleared his throat. "...Innit standard t'park backwards?"

"If I'd done that, it's likely the other two cars would have scratched mine when they left based on their angle."

"Ah," Atsumu answered before he could think twice, wondered why he kept ending conversations so stupidly.

Their almost-but-not-quite-maybe-not-even-almost dating status had been teetering precariously even before his injury and now that they were speaking again, Atsumu was feeling the tension manifest under his feet as a tightrope he'd never learned to master. He'd asked Osamu one night after half a bottle of crappy sake how he knew he liked Suna and wanted to date him and Osamu told him to never worry about that because nobody would ever like him back.

Atsumu would rub it in Osamu's face that someone _did_ end up liking him back, if only Osamu wouldn't find some way to turn it around on Atsumu.

The car ride was quiet and peaceful; Atsumu was known to be loud and talkative, but when he was with just one other person, especially Sakusa, he found himself nestling easily into a comfortable silence. He'd occasionally make comments about the song that came onto the radio station that Atsumu chose (said Sakusa was an old man for listening to the news) or something he'd spot outside the window (Sakusa would deliver his responses with that dry wit Atsumu hated to admit would make him laugh). Sakusa at one point mentioned that Atsumu was as excitable as a dog and, remembering Sakusa _liked_ dogs, Atsumu wondered if he was just being flirted with.

But mostly it was silent, just two people refusing to admit that they enjoyed each other's company and each other in general. Atsumu found himself hoping for red lights; he felt so soothed that he could almost fall asleep but stayed awake, didn't want to miss a single conscious moment he could have with Sakusa.

"Hey, Omi-kun," Atsumu said quietly once they were approaching his apartment. "…I think fer someone who's as approachable as a cactus, yer actually pretty nice."

"…I'm not really sure how I should respond to that," Sakusa said after a pause and Atsumu smiled, trusted that Sakusa's fastidiousness in driving would spare him of any sort of retribution after his next words.

"Just… when most people ignore someone for weeks, they're not always here waitin'. Kinda surprised ya didn't ghost me as revenge. Guess you must like me, huh?"

Sakusa didn't say anything which, given it was in response to something Atsumu said, wasn't too unusual. He was used to people not even bothering to respond to him and when they came to a stop at a light, Atsumu's eyes drifted over to see that Sakusa was looking at him, eyes dark and unreadable, Tokyo's lights illuminating his pale skin that almost blended in with his mask.

And then he closed his eyes for a moment in that same way as when they'd been walking to Onigiri Miya and Atsumu, once again, forgot how to talk until they were at his apartment.

Giving him the last few instructions but realizing he hadn't needed to, Sakusa pulled to a stop on the street in front of his building. Atsumu was wrangling with his voice to try and figure out how to ask if Sakusa wanted to come inside for anything when he heard Sakusa's door open right after his, heart racing in his chest. The walk up to the entrance of the complex was silent except for the crinkling of the Onigiri Miya bag; Atsumu did manage to ask if he wanted to come inside for anything and Sakusa just asked if he'd cleaned.

Atsumu immediately felt defensive. "Course I cleaned, Omi-kun! Ya think I live in filth?"

"There were ants coming out of your locker once," Sakusa explained calmly.

"I forgot Samu gave me onigiri!"

Atsumu could tell from the way his eyes crinkled and the slight raise of an eyebrow that Sakusa was smirking beneath his mask. The sound of a dog's yip drew Sakusa's attention and as Atsumu stood there, staring at his side profile, he realized just how much he'd started to like this human form of a cactus and how, as annoying as Oikawa was, he was right in warning Atsumu to not push away the people he cared about.

He swallowed.

_All right… all right, I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna do it! Omi-kun's not gonna hit me when I'm still injured! E'erythin' else has been workin' out, so this'll be fine too._

Newfound confidence surged through him as Atsumu inhaled, dragged air forcibly through his nose. Sakusa turned back towards him with an eyebrow quirked and Atsumu didn't spare another moment before he leaned in, focused his weight on his good leg and steadied himself with a hand against the door.

Normally when Atsumu was going in for a kiss, he'd stare at someone's lips, lock them in as his target and then close his eyes. He followed that foolproof method this time as well and realized something was wrong when he found no lips to zero in on; with a start, he realized it was because Sakusa still had his mask on and he abruptly stopped.

And then as soon as he stopped, as soon as the adrenaline in his veins receded, Atsumu was faced with the mortifying ordeal of Sakusa Kiyoomi knowing that Atsumu had thought about kissing him. It was like how they knew they liked each other, but neither wanted to actually _let_ the other know they liked them. It was, essentially, a game of chicken except Atsumu had just veered off course with an action that was louder than anything he could even think of screaming.

The fading adrenaline also cleared his brain for logic to try and set up camp. He'd held his lips so tightly that Sakusa probably would have felt like he was being kissed with a beak; Atsumu had just leaned in without thinking, ultimately heading towards a nose-to-nose, mouth-to-mouth collision that would not have been enjoyable for anyone, the sort of kiss that only middle schoolers were allowed to get away with. Atsumu wasn't a stranger to kissing people; he really wasn't, having kissed his fair share of them, but had a feeling that announcing such after a bad kiss would not be salvaging his reputation and would, instead, sound like a bold faced lie.

The thing was that Atsumu had never had such conflicting feelings of attraction and annoyance. He'd never been so ridiculously into someone who made him want to rip out his hair, someone who, objectively, wasn't very nice to him but was also kinder to him than anyone else had been, in his own way. He'd never so badly wanted someone who openly showed only disdain and disgust but when Atsumu needed it the most, would always show that he truly cared in a quiet way.

He didn't know how to handle that and now, to top it all off, Sakusa not only knew that Atsumu wanted to kiss him, but that he'd just failed at it.

_I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die—_

"Atsumu."

Sakusa's deep voice broke the delicate silence that surrounded them on the steps to his apartment complex. Atsumu pulled back only a little, had barely taken half a step back when he watched Sakura hook a finger around his mask and pull it under his chin. There was a brief moment where something felt wrong with what he was seeing and then, Atsumu realized, it was seeing Sakusa's entire face in public.

"Don't get my mask dirty," Sakusa said plainly.

And then he kissed him.

He kissed him; he was kissing him, Atsumu thought, Sakusa was kissing Atsumu, _Sakusa was kissing Atsumu._ Sakusa's lips were warm and soft against his own and in that moment, Atsumu realized how he could definitely see Sakusa as a lip balm sort of person. He'd tilted his head, interlocked their lips and had a hand cradle Atsumu's jaw so gently that it left the idea of breathing a distant dream. He felt like he'd been rendered useless because Sakusa Kiyoomi, outside hitter of the MSBY Black Jackals _and_ national team was kissing him; Sakusa Kiyoomi, the most blunt and prickly asshole he'd ever met was kissing him so gently; Sakusa Kiyoomi, the focus of Atsumu's daydreams for much longer than he'd cared to admit was kissing him in a way that emboldened Atsumu to think that his daydreams weren't as out of reach as he'd thought.

Sakusa's lips moved and Atsumu feebly tried to reciprocate, but he swore his corpus callosum had decided to up and leave, left the two hemispheres of his brains attempting to formulate and circulate a proper thought. Kissing, as enjoyable as it was, wasn't a necessary life skill that his body thought to prioritize when his lungs felt paralyzed and even his veins felt frozen.

At least, not until Sakusa pulled back and looked at him with a slightly furrowed brow. Atsumu stared back blankly; he was still processing that Sakusa had kissed him at his own volition until:

"…You've kissed people before, haven't you?"

Atsumu, admittedly, had wondered if Sakusa would be a good kisser and now that he had his answer, horrifyingly realized that _he_ hadn't lived up to Sakusa's standards of kissing (if he had been kind to assume any of Atsumu.) He gawked at him for a solid three seconds before inhaling, and brow knitting. "O-of course I have, Omi-kun! What kinda accusation's that?!"

Sakusa didn't seem convinced, kept regarding him in the same way he looked at Hinata when he promised he hadn't had any energy drinks when he literally couldn't stand still. Atsumu pulled his shoulders back, felt a new wave of resolution break in his chest.

"I'll show ya what a real kiss's like!"

This time, Atsumu remembered to tilt his head. This time, Atsumu remembered to interlock their lips. This time, Atsumu reached out to grab Sakusa by both sides of his face and pull him in, mouths bridging the already small distance between them and this time, _this time_ Atsumu was kissing Sakusa.

He could feel Sakusa relax, a tension in his jaw melting away under the warmth of Atsumu's palms. The Onigiri Miya bag fell to the crook of his elbow as Atsumu's mouth moved against Sakusa's, took his bottom lip between his teeth and tugged lightly. The hot breath that Sakusa sighed caused Atsumu's fingers to twitch involuntarily; the temptation to grab his hair and yank his head back to leave kiss marks along his neck suddenly sprung to Atsumu's mind but he pushed it away, reminded himself that not only was this _Sakusa_ , someone he wanted to take it slow and do everything right with, but this was Sakusa _,_ someone who could and would make Atsumu's previous dead body in a car metaphor a reality with _Atsumu's_ dead body.

The very last thing Atsumu wanted right now was for there to be any sort of distance between them.

It wasn't until he felt Sakusa's tongue run across his lip that he had the courage to suck lightly, slip his tongue into his mouth when another breath parted his lips further. It hadn't been a particularly warm night; walking had kept him from being chilly and when they'd just been standing at his doorstep, the cold air was beginning to peek through Atsumu's clothes. But now cold was the last thing on his mind; Atsumu felt swept up and away by the sort of kiss-induced dream state that didn't seem real, seemed too good to be real until he was actually experiencing it and couldn't believe the human form of a cactus could cause this. He pulled back only when air deprivation inspired delirium began to edge out pleasure inspired delirium, though they lingered close, waited for the trance to ebb on its own before fully parting. Atsumu had to fight the urge to chase Sakusa's lips with his own for a second kiss before he'd finished processing that first one, pressed his numb lips into a thin line and exhaled until his lungs felt as empty as his heart full.

He opened his eyes in time to see Sakusa finish pulling his mask back over his nose and though he couldn't see how red his lips were, the highpoints of his blush peeked over the seams. Even Sakusa's eyes, usually either devoid of all will to live or full of irritation seemed a bit dazed. Atsumu cleared his throat and Sakusa's eyes immediately refocused onto him. "…I've kissed people before," he huffed quietly. "Don't get cocky, Omi-kun, it's not like you were my first kiss, ya know."

"I wouldn't have been surprised if I was. You're very much the type to talk a big game but have it all be hot steam," Sakusa answered but his eyes crinkled gently.

Atsumu glowered and cleared his throat, moved the Onigiri Miya bag from his elbow back to his hand. His eyes dropped to the ground for a moment; his cheeks still felt warm and for just a moment, understood exactly why Sakusa was always wearing a mask. Looking up he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn't suppress both a blush _and_ quivering in his voice, and so he focused on keeping his words even, allowed the color full reign on his cheeks. "'S fine if you don't wanna, but yer welcome upstairs. Got coffee 'nd tea 'nd wiped down all the surfaces this morning."

 _To calm myself 'bout askin' ya out after practice_ , he finished in his head. He held up the bag. "If ya got room, you can help me test Samu's new recipes. They're usually pretty good."

Sakusa nodded and Atsumu didn't even try to temper the faint crooked smile that tugged at his lips. He fished his keys out of his pocket before punching in the entry code and bit his lip to keep from laughing to see Sakusa ready with his handkerchief to open the door. He murmured _thanks_ as Sakusa held the door open for him, their footsteps echoing on the linoleum floor.

"Hey, Omi-kun?" he asked as they headed towards the elevator. "Why'd ya specify if I've kissed people?"

"I don't know what you do in your spare time."

Atsumu was quiet for a moment.

"…I don't even know _where_ t'start with how offended I am."

* * *

"Do you want anything to drink? Wine, beer, soda, water?"

"Wine's good. Which way's the restroom?"

Responding with a tilt of his head and impish smile, Oikawa's expression widened briefly at the light touch that grazed his waist, traveled to the small of his back before disappearing entirely. As soon as the other disappeared around the corner, he let the expression fall from his face, a sigh following and his eyes closing.

Oikawa tended to keep to himself, surprisingly, when working out, but Oikawa was also never one to not realize when someone was watching him. When he'd moved back to Tokyo, dating had been the last thing on his mind and even when he saw Iwaizumi, such juvenile retaliation ranked low on his list now that he was nearing thirty. For the most part, he pretended to not notice being eyed from across the gym; it was only recently that they spoke, their initial conversations mostly _you want me to spot you?_ and eventually turning into something more conversational, though Oikawa managed to keep from crossing the line of friendly and flirting.

The week he'd taken off from work had also ended up as a break from his work outs and when he returned to the gym, after answering _hey, thought you switched gyms_ with _and leave you?_ with a twinkle in his eye, he'd secured himself a date for the very next evening. He'd seemed a bit taken back and when Oikawa teased if he'd been too straightforward, he had laughed, reassured no, he actually quite liked it.

Oikawa hoped that his smile was able to hide that _he_ felt like it was too straightforward and sudden.

His name was Yokota Kou and he was a year younger and worked in marketing. He used to play volleyball casually, which was what they mostly talked about, though he preferred swimming. Oikawa appreciated being able to talk about volleyball with someone who didn't know that he used to play or that was how he'd gotten his injury; Oikawa had made up a story about an accident, quickly switched the topic and luckily for him, Yokota was either gullible or considerate.

Oikawa set two glasses onto the counter and when he heard the door to the washroom close and lock, he pressed his palms to the kitchen counter, bowed his head and exhaled shakily, locked arms trembling.

Oikawa's normal schedule was going to the gym after Atsumu's session and his first day back was no exception. Iwaizumi was early, which was usual, and Atsumu was just barely on time, which was unusual. Oikawa was the one who ended up a few minutes late, lost track of time in the bathroom as he chanted to himself that this was work, this was professional, he could do this, he _had_ to do this. He greeted them politely and expected to hear a sharp retort from Atsumu as he leafed through the notes his senior had left for him, found them brief and _Iwaizumi-san will fill you in_ as the most helpful bullet point.

When he was met only with silence, Oikawa had looked up, saw Atsumu pouting and looking away. Only when he frowned did Iwaizumi snap and Atsumu grumble, _"G'mornin' to ya too."_

Oikawa felt something winding up in his chest but ignored it and smiled in his practiced manner. He pulled up a chair and sat across from Atsumu, decided to stare at Atsumu's knee to make up for the fact that he wasn't staring at Oikawa's. _"Sorry for last week, Tsumu-chan. Iwa-chan, please fill me in."_

The apology had loomed over his head the entire hour; the only reason Oikawa didn't apologize at the beginning was to avoid it cutting into the session. He'd brought it up to Iwaizumi over text that he was planning on apologizing afterwards, did he think Atsumu would take a lack of apology at the beginning to be offensive? Iwaizumi then texted back that he didn't think so, Atsumu would probably think he was getting out of an awkward conversation, added that it was good to make him squirm.

As usual, Iwaizumi made Oikawa smile when he felt like he could do anything but that.

A master of mind over matter, Oikawa folded up the dread into a tiny square until the hour was up and he sent Iwaizumi out for coffee. It had been just about the quietest, most civil session he'd had; Atsumu was so obedient that Oikawa quietly asked Iwaizumi during a break if he'd bribed Atsumu and he'd glared, snapped that of course he hadn't. Oikawa still didn't believe Iwaizumi because Atsumu was being too quiet and he found himself wondering if it was Sakusa related.

Oikawa hadn't written out and memorized his apology beforehand, knowing that he didn't have the acting capabilities to avoid it seeming ingenuine and practiced, which made it all that much harder to stand in front of Atsumu and admit his faults and wrongdoings. He didn't feel better immediately afterwards, but he hadn't really expected to; this was one of those things where he knew he was wrong and he knew he had to apologize, but he didn't want to. Atsumu's apology didn't exactly make him feel better either, but at least, Oikawa thought, _this_ was actually closure.

Atsumu headed out first afterwards; Iwaizumi asked if it went okay and Oikawa smiled, teased, _"Weren't you eavesdropping?"_ Nonetheless, he nodded, smiled faintly.

_"I think so. This is what being a grown-up is like: having to do things that aren't fun and even when doing them, not immediately feeling better. All you can do is do right by others, even if it doesn't benefit you."_

Iwaizumi then looked at him in a way that spurred Oikawa's first words at the gym to be asking Yokota out.

Oikawa hadn't wanted him to, but when Iwaizumi quietly murmured that he should probably head home once he'd hit the full week mark of staying with Oikawa, he'd swallowed his words and nodded. As resolved as Oikawa felt in what he wanted, when he was that close to Iwaizumi, it was hard to not throw himself on him, especially when he'd look up to catch Iwaizumi watching him in the way that made sitting three feet away on the couch feel as tense as the seconds right before a kiss.

Iwaizumi had flashed him one last lopsided smile before leaving and as soon as the door closed, Oikawa's small one-bedroom apartment felt like it was going to swallow him whole. He'd immediately turned on the television to a volume that would undoubtedly bother his neighbors but he welcomed even that; he needed anything to fill a silence that would make him want to run after Iwaizumi and never let him go.

Inhaling through his nose after hearing the faucet in the washroom turn off, Oikawa took to the kitchen sink to wash his hands and then dry them quickly on a freshly washed hand towel (Iwaizumi really was the perfect guest; while Oikawa was curled up in bed, he'd even done his laundry and a general clean-up of the living room and kitchen). He threaded his fingers through the two glass stems, other hand curled around a bottle of red. By the time he was out of the kitchen, Yokota had come around the corner and smiled, complimented his soap.

Oikawa smiled in amusement. "My soap, really?"

Yokota laughed.

"I appreciate someone who actually puts thought into the ambiance of a bathroom."

Oikawa laughed quietly, took a seat and sternly kept his gaze fixated on the glasses when he felt Yokota sit so close to him that their thighs brushed. He poured them each half a glass of an already opened bottle and after replacing the wine stopper, picked one up for himself and offered the other to Yokota. Their hands brushed and he realized this was the first time he'd felt someone's hand purposely brush against his besides Iwaizumi's.

He felt absolutely nothing from Yokota's hand besides the contact itself, whereas Iwaizumi's hand didn't even have to be touching Oikawa's to send voltage through his veins.

The date had been fine; as far as dates went, it would lean towards a more positive experience. Oikawa hadn't gone on a proper dinner and drinks sort of date in a long time, but it was easy to fall back into a routine he'd had memorized since high school, when dinner would likely be pizza and drinks would be milkshakes.

Oikawa had pulled on one of his nicer shirts and a cologne he only wore for certain occasions, only needed to run his hand through his hair once for that easy, tousled look that was guaranteed to make people's knees weak when paired with the right smile. He'd met Yokota in front of his apartment and it had been a short walk to the restaurant, where Oikawa learned more about him than just his workout routine and goals and limits. It was a perfect evening for a date; brisk enough that the standard _I'm cold_ and _here, take my jacket_ move would be natural, but warm enough that walking wasn't a ludicrous idea. Oikawa used to analyze temperature trends for his dates and Iwaizumi would kick him off the bed and snap at him that it's fucking spring, it'll be fine, dumbass.

Yokota had two dogs and his cardio was jogging with them everyday, which explained why Oikawa only ever saw him at the weights in the gym. His job had fairly normal hours and one of the first things Oikawa told him was that he was a physiotherapist, that while his schedule wasn't as hectic as many others in the medical field, his time wasn't entirely his own. Yokota had nodded easily and smiled, said that he didn't mind, he'd dated people with unpredictable work schedules before.

Oikawa then added that he wasn't looking for anything serious and Yokota had laughed, asked if he was always this straightforward. Oikawa had smiled, answered, _"No, actually, not until recently. But I have a pretty bad history with miscommunications and assumptions, so now I'm trying to be honest and upfront from the start."_

Yokota grinned. _"Can't say I mind that, honestly. Nice to go on a date and know exactly what the other person's expecting."_

Dinner was fine and Oikawa found himself lingering on curry, even though he'd already decided on ordering the tonkatsu after studying the menu intricately last night. He still planned on that and that was what he answered when Yokota asked, but as soon as the waiter arrived, he'd ordered the curry without thinking twice about it. Yokota had laughed. _"I mean, it's not a bad choice. This place's curry is really good; it regularly ranks in the top three in Tokyo."_

When it arrived, it was good, but didn't measure up to Iwaizumi's.

They'd had wine at dinner and when they left the restaurant, Oikawa could see the way Yokota hesitated, even caught the way his hand twitched. In hindsight he realized it was just because of the shadow of a passing car, but Oikawa blurted out if he wanted to come over for a drink, used it as an excuse to take a small step back. Yokota had blinked; he seemed surprised but smiled and said _sure, why not?_ and Oikawa already found himself regretting his decision because to get out of a possibility of a kiss, he'd just set it up for something that could possibly lead to more than that.

Perhaps Oikawa was a bit out of practice with this dating thing after all.

In an attempt to try and move on from Iwaizumi, Oikawa put himself into a situation where every single thing reminded him of Iwaizumi. Getting ready had him thinking about when he'd used to do so in Iwaizumi's room, ask for his best friend's support before a date and just be called an idiot. Dinner had him thinking of Iwaizumi's cooking that seemed to be the only thing Oikawa had an appetite for, finally growing tired of his bland chicken and broccoli. Even walking, now, had him thinking of when he and Iwaizumi walked from the hospital to the izakaya. Everything made him think of Iwaizumi, whether in a good way or not, and Oikawa was beginning to think that Hanamaki and Matsukawa gave horrible advice.

Or maybe they gave fine advice and Oikawa just made horrible decisions.

Yokota's arm came around his shoulders just as Oikawa leaned back into the couch after turning on the television, immediately resuming the drama he and Iwaizumi had been watching; Oikawa hesitated and then switched it to some reality show, another guilty pleasure that while Oikawa knew Iwaizumi _would_ watch if he asked, wouldn't subject him to.

Even the devil had his occasional limits.

Yokota's arm was heavy and the way his forearm rested against Oikawa's shoulder left him wondering if it hurt. Oikawa had to hold his head up because while Iwaizumi was able to hold him in a way that was natural, Oikawa had no idea how to position his head right now and pretended his neck wasn't feeling a slight strain. Yokota's arm shifted and Oikawa brought his wine to his lips because _his_ shoulder hurt; if the bony part of _his_ shoulder hurt, how was the fleshy part of Yokota's arm doing fine? How did Iwaizumi do this? Why was this such a natural, thing for Iwaizumi to do but when Yokota was doing it, Oikawa wondered why anyone in the world would ever want to do something like this?

Oikawa's body felt so stiff that he was scared to breathe too much. He took another sip of wine and then another; he'd stopped drinking almost entirely because of how often he was with Iwaizumi and how they didn't have the best track record with alcohol, but now that he wasn't here, Oikawa was free to indulge as much as he wanted to. Alcohol, after all, was often a quick and temporary solution for a whole myriad of problems. Once he was tipsy, Oikawa was sure that the issue of Yokota's heavy arm around him would be the least of his concerns.

"Hey."

He knew what to expect even before he turned to his head to face him, but even so, watching Yokota lean in had Oikawa barely able to suppress his flinch. He felt the crook of his arm come around his neck to bring him close and Oikawa's eyes immediately fluttered closed, head tilted naturally as he felt warm lips brush over his.

It was a chaste kiss, light and ticklish. The contact threatened a laugh born from the physical sensation and not the emotional feeling; Oikawa bit his lip, already knew that it would come off as coy if Yokota were to see. It wasn't a bad kiss; it wasn't anything _amazing_ , but that wasn't exactly the nature of a feathery kiss like that. It was fine. It was nice. It was enjoyable.

Maybe he was in his own head too much, Oikawa thought. He'd fallen victim to his own expectations before; this was his first proper date without the intention of it just being a one-night stand in years and any sort of relationship only worked if both sides would put in the effort. He'd known even when asking Yokota out that this wasn't dating with no strings attached; this was dating in an attempt to sever the most tangled string in the entire universe.

"Was that okay?" Yokota asked quietly, hazel eyes opening.

Oikawa smiled, nodded and was the one to lean in as he murmured, "Yeah, it was," right before he kissed him again, this time more confidently. His mouth moved against Yokota's easily and when he felt his hand on his thigh, Oikawa brought a hand to cup his face. He mistook the vibration against his leg as Yokota's hand at first but when he heard a familiar ringtone sound, he pulled back, cleared his throat and apologized. Yokota smiled easily, pulled his hand back and shook his head. "No problem. Work?"

Oikawa nodded instinctively, reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. Yokota moved a bit away to give him privacy as Oikawa swiped up, heart jumping to see Iwaizumi's name.

**From: Iwa-chan**

_busy?_

Oikawa's cheeks felt warmer from just this one text than the last several minutes all together. "Sorry," he said, "this is my manager, I have to make sure he doesn't need me to come in or anything."

Yokota nodded. "Of course. Take your time."

Oikawa thought that he should've felt guiltier for so brazenly lying. He smiled before dropping his eyes back to his phone, thumbs flying over the keyboard, unsure if his heart was racing because it was Iwaizumi or in anticipation and curiosity. Only a day had passed after Iwaizumi left before they were texting again, Oikawa once again uncharacteristically reaching out first because he found that he couldn't bear to go without any sort of communication with Iwaizumi for more than twenty four hours.

They'd been texting casually over the last few days, their last conversation being about whether Godzilla or the Loch Ness monster would win in a fight. This was something Iwaizumi normally argued to the absolute death and when he stopped answering, Oikawa assumed that someone had done something massively stupid at work.

**To: Iwa-chan**

_no! does iwa-chan want to play?_

The ellipsis popped up so quickly and Oikawa almost blushed to think that Iwaizumi was staring at his screen waiting for him to answer, exactly as Oikawa was for him.

**From: Iwa-chan**

_stop calling it that it sounds like we're three_

**From: Iwa-chan**

_nothing in mind but rough day, so wanted to see if you felt like hanging out. im close to your place_

It wasn't even a question in his mind.

**To: Iwa-chan**

_of course! come over whenever_

"Sorry, Yokkun, something's come up," he said, smiling apologetically. "Do you mind if we cut our evening short?"

"No problem," Yokota said, shaking his head and setting his half-finished glass down on the table. "You've got patients, it's fine. They need you."

Oikawa smiled, already feeling bad enough about how easily his lies were being accepted. He retrieved Yokota's coat from the closet; his stomach was already twisting nervously, wondered how close Iwaizumi meant when he said close, but was careful to not rush him out. Their hands brushed and Oikawa was quick to break lingering eye contact before the unspoken sign for another kiss, felt tense all the way until Yokota was out the door. He counted backwards from twenty, the average amount of time it took from to go from his apartment to the elevator and when he counted another ten seconds and heard only the ding of the elevator arriving and leaving, could safely assume that Yokota and Iwaizumi hadn't accidentally crossed paths. If they met each other in the lobby Oikawa couldn't do anything about that, but it would be a lot easier for Iwaizumi to assume him to just be another tenant of the building that way. He blamed the wine and innate, puppy-like eagerness for not thinking to let Iwaizumi know he'd be free in half an hour but then he remembered that Iwaizumi, quiet Iwaizumi would rarely talked or complained about how he felt, had said he'd had a rough day.

If he hadn't had Yokota over, Oikawa would've walked out to meet him, just so he could see him sooner.

Taking a breath, he returned to the couch and picked up the two glasses of wine. Without thinking twice about it, he finished the rest of his in one gulp and poured Yokota's down the sink. His tongue felt dry as he licked his lips, quickly rinsing the glasses and then shoving them into the dishwasher to hide the evidence. He had just retrieved another glass from the cupboard for some water to mask the smell of wine in his breath when a knock came at the door; Oikawa knew that, logically, Iwaizumi would be fine to be left at the door for another ten seconds, but instinct took over.

He left the glass on the counter and the cupboard open, rushed to the door and opened it with a bright smile. "Iwa-chan! I didn't hear the elevator!"

"What, you listen for the elevator like some kind of dog? I took the stairs," Iwaizumi smirked tiredly and Oikawa stuck his tongue out playfully. Iwaizumi's eyes lingered; Oikawa wondered why until he remembered just how _dark_ red wine was and when Iwaizumi's eyes trailed behind him, felt his face color.

"Ah…"

"Don't worry about it. You're twenty-seven, you're allowed to drink," Iwaizumi said, shaking his head with that same lopsided smile that left Oikawa weak in the knees. "I mean, I know with us it's tricky, but if one of us is sober it'll be fine."

Oikawa visibly relaxed and stepped aside, letting him in. Iwaizumi's nose twitched; Oikawa was about to ask if _he_ was the dog until Iwaizumi leaned in and sniffed him. Oikawa stared and then realized it was that stupid, stupid cologne; before he could say anything, Oikawa rushed, "Just wanted to test out a look tonight."

Iwaizumi stared at him.

"You dressed up, put on cologne, and drank wine? By yourself? In your living room? Watching shitty reality shows?"

Iwaizumi had a talent of saying things and completely dissolving Oikawa's careful attempts to make them seem believable.

Oikawa cleared his throat and decided to just lean all the way into his lie.

"Yes. Yes, I did, actually."

They stared at each other, the way they did in high school when Oikawa said he absolutely did not have Iwaizumi's tie in his hands behind his back and Iwaizumi firmly believed he did. He could see it; Iwaizumi definitely didn't believe in his lie because there was even a limit for Oikawa's antics and he was trying to figure out what the truth was. Iwaizumi had about an eighty-two percent accuracy with this; he was startlingly good with seeing through Oikawa's lies, but sometimes he'd do something so ridiculous that even Iwaizumi wouldn't expect it.

Dark brow furrowing, Iwaizumi turned so their shoulders were parallel and narrowed his eyes. "…Should I be worried?" he asked quietly and Oikawa nearly balked.

"…Hah?"

"Are you spiraling again?" Iwaizumi asked and Oikawa blinked. "Are you all right? Do you need me to stay?"

"W—n-no, Iwa-chan, I'm—I'm fine, don't worry!" Oikawa answered, felt the wine accelerating his words. "I put on cologne and watch trashy television, and you think I'm having a midlife crisis? That's what you think I'd do?"

Iwaizumi shrugged; he seemed a little embarrassed at Oikawa's reaction, but managed to glower lightly anyway. "It's only been a few days, so—"

"I'm fine," Oikawa said with a breathless laugh, a tickle in his chest because the endless depths of Iwaizumi's devotion would never cease to amaze him. He shook his head. "I'm okay, really. Stop worrying."

Iwaizumi was still looking at him in a way where Oikawa knew that he absolutely didn't believe him and he gave a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. Until now, all he knew was that he didn't want Iwaizumi to know he was on a date but now he was wondering _why_ he didn't want him to know. If the date had gone well, Iwaizumi would've found out eventually. The whole purpose of dating was to try and move on; a large part of that included Iwaizumi _knowing_.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek for a bit longer he sighed and looked at him tiredly. "…I was on a date," he admitted and didn't know how to feel that Iwaizumi just blinked but didn't react in any other way. "It wasn't going well, honestly. He wasn't bad, he just wasn't my type and Iwa-chan's text gave me the perfect reason to send him home. I…"

Oikawa faltered for a moment. "I didn't want to make you feel bad, so I didn't tell you."

"Oh," Iwaizumi managed and Oikawa nodded again. He blinked once, slowly, and then a few more times in more rapid succession. "Oh," he repeated and shifted; Oikawa's breath hitched to see him start to take a step towards the door. "Shit, sorry, I—"

"Like I said," Oikawa rushed because Iwaizumi's eyes darted away, "you did me a favor, Iwa-chan. I'd much rather hang out with my best friend when he's not having a good day than with some guy who I was falling asleep listening to. Can we not make a huge deal out of this?"

He saw Iwaizumi's shoulders draw back as he inhaled, wasn't sure if it was anticipation or wine that caused a flood of heat over his body. Iwaizumi paused and eyed him carefully. "Are you sure?" he asked slowly and Oikawa immediately nodded. "Because it's not that serious. If you liked the guy, I'll leave, we can hang out some other—"

"I'm sure," Oikawa answered immediately and Iwaizumi finally acquiesced, shoulders relaxing and nodding. "Iwa-chan can go sit on the couch. I'll bring you something to drink."

Iwaizumi nodded and stepped out of his shoes. As Oikawa opened the refrigerator to pull out one of Hanamaki's numerous juices and a bottle of milk tea, he heard Iwaizumi ask if the date was anything he wanted to talk about and Oikawa blinked. His hand froze momentarily and he swallowed, stood slowly and made sure his back was towards the living room in case Iwaizumi was using some reflective surface to observe him.

"You know, like high school. I come over, you bitch and whine, I tell you you're being overdramatic," Iwaizumi said but Oikawa heard _is there anything you want to tell me?_

Biding his time by opening the juice and taking a huge swig, Oikawa ended up stalling for longer than intended because, as it turned out, pomegranate juice and wine did _not_ mix. He hurried over to sputter into the sink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, reassuring Iwaizumi he was fine. "No, it's fine," he managed and cleared his throat. Grabbing a towel to dry off his hand, he took the milk bottle over to the couch, pressed it playfully to Iwaizumi's cheek and smiled easily. "It wouldn't live up to any of my high school adventures, so why disappoint my adoring fan?"

He collapsed into the seat next to him on the couch and took another sip of the evil juice. "It was just boring, nice guy but no spark," he said and looked over with a smile. "Wanted to test some waters, I suppose."

"And?" Iwaizumi asked, unopened milk tea in his hands and eye contact never wavering.

Oikawa's smile faltered and he looked away. Leaning forward for the remote, he leveled it with the television and flicked it back to their drama, licked his lips and swallowed. "I'll only know when the waters settle," he said.

Iwaizumi didn't answer but when Oikawa heard the bottle crack open, he understood that as Iwaizumi dropping the conversation and gave a quiet sigh of relief. Almost twenty minutes passed by in silence that only the drama filled. Oikawa eventually took another sip—evil juice was slowly winning out over the wine's aftertaste, he noted and recapped his bottle—and when another car accident happened, Iwaizumi audibly groaned. "For fuck's—"

"Iwa-chan, you should be used to this by now," Oikawa chided gently.

"Can we go back to your shitty reality show? I swear, if I have to sit through another amnesia plot—"

"Welcome to the world of dramas, Iwa-chan."

Bringing his juice to his mouth again, he didn't think twice about it until Iwaizumi looked over suddenly and smirked tiredly. "You should uncap it first, dumbass."

Iwaizumi's words registered just as the thin grooves of the cap met Oikawa's lip. He mumbled _oh_ and twisted it off, heard him laugh and felt his skin prickle and chest seize at the sound. Iwaizumi had wrestled the remote from him and ultimately decided on rerun of a Godzilla movie. Oikawa couldn't help but smile as this time he successfully took a sip, just the first few seconds of scenes bringing back floods of childhood memories. "Does Iwa-chan want to talk about today?" he asked softly after a few more moments.

Iwaizumi shrugged easily, movement catching the focus of his peripheral vision. "It was just one of those days where things just kept going wrong. Small things but by the end you're just exhausted. I'm fine. Nothing a movie and eating your stuff can't fix."

Oikawa made a sound of protest but injected no venom into his tone, folded his legs up onto the sofa. "No juicy gossip on the national volleyball team for me?" he whined and Iwaizumi scoffed, answered he'd already provided him with plenty of gossip.

"I guess Yaku accidentally sent a text to the group chat that was definitely meant for someone else. Never saw someone be that aggressive but endearing."

"Can I see it?"

"He retracted it, but someone took a screenshot and sent it to Kuroo, so it's just a matter of time."

Oikawa's couch was meant for two people—when Oikawa moved back, he hadn't exactly anticipated a ton of company—and in high school, he and Iwaizumi seldom each occupied a seat. One of them was usually always sitting on the crack or, more often than not, they were sitting right next to each other so some part of their bodies would be touching; they'd grown up together and physical contact was so second nature that putting distance between them was a conscious effort.

And that made it all the more evident just how far apart they were sitting, each occupying their own cushion. There was no way for Oikawa to touch Iwaizumi and blame it on an accident, no matter how acrobatically he twisted himself; in reality, it was less than a meter between them, but Oikawa felt so distant from Iwaizumi that something inside him ached.

Yet, at the same time, existing on the same couch had his heart thudding in ways that Yokota would never be able to bring out in him, an entire lifetime with him unable to amount to just one moment with Iwaizumi. And it wasn't just Yokota, Oikawa knew; it would be anyone. Nobody ever made him feel the way Iwaizumi did without meaning to; nobody left him wanting to chase waves into the horizon with just a smile and Oikawa wondered how he could want someone so, so much while not wanting them at all.

One of their texts after Atsumu's session was Iwaizumi noting that Oikawa had actually matured. He'd smiled as he texted back, teased _almost ten years have passed, even eternally youthful people age mentally!_

Iwaizumi's response gutted Oikawa without that being the intention.

_sometimes i can't help but see you as the you i grew up with. in a good way, i mean._

Iwaizumi probably didn't know that Oikawa felt the same way.

Oikawa would look at him and even though he'd note that Iwaizumi was taller, his hair was parted differently, his shoulders were broader but he'd still see his _Iwa-chan_ : the way his brows may as well be tattooed into a scowl and how his lips were, more often than not, turned downwards. He'd see the Iwa-chan who he chased bugs with and scraped knees with and then the Iwa-chan he fell in love with and dreamt of a life with. He'd see every facet of Iwaizumi but always, always see the Iwa-chan he loved, who had always supported him and even though it terrified him to think of being with him, he still couldn't imagine letting him go and wondered if this was the sort of paralysis that time could actually heal.

He'd see the Iwa-chan who'd gotten sick standing out in the rain with Oikawa while waiting for tickets to an alien convention, the Iwa-chan who _definitely_ got food poisoning from Oikawa's first attempt at chicken soup but pretended it wasn't Oikawa's fault. He'd see the Iwa-chan who called Oikawa stupid and obsessive when he explained why he needed to label everything in the refrigerator but bought him a label maker (with refills), the Iwa-chan who he accidentally robbed a grocery store with (and got caught when they went back to try and pay, because security recognized them from camera footage. Luckily, they'd been ten and cried and were cute enough to get off with a warning). He'd see the Iwa-chan who used to climb trees so quickly that all the kids in the neighborhood wanted to play with him, but no matter what, he'd always say _let's play with Oikawa_ and if they said no, then Iwa-chan told them to play without either of them.

He'd see the Iwa-chan who broke his heart a million times in eight months but put it back together a million and one times over the course of their lives.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa had good intentions, he knew, and their logic was sound, but Oikawa had taken their advice, only to realize that it was terrible for him and absolutely wouldn't work. Yokota was nice. Yokota was fun. Yokota, by all accounts, wanted something casual, which would've been exactly what Oikawa wanted; he would be an ideal palate cleanser.

But Oikawa didn't want a palate cleanser, he thought. He didn't want to forget Iwaizumi, he didn't want to be unable to remember what it was like to kiss him or have his calloused hands run over his body, the way Oikawa's face so perfectly fit into the crooked of his neck as his arms wrapped around his neck and scratched at his back, the way Iwaizumi's arms was comforting but weightless around his shoulders, the way Iwaizumi smelled when Oikawa cried into his shoulder. He didn't want to forget the weight of Iwaizumi's body on top of his own, how warm and soothing it felt to have their bodies pressed flush together, how Iwaizumi could kiss a little aggressively at times, especially when he was drunk, but that color of swollen and bruised on his lips was Oikawa's favorite.

He didn't want a palate cleanser and he didn't want to move on, even if, by all accounts, that was what he should be trying to do.

Oikawa took another sip of evil juice and licked his lips. Capping the bottle and deciding he was definitely done torturing himself with that, he leaned forward to set it down on the coffee table and took the chance to sneak a glance at Iwaizumi.

And immediately, he remembered that last kiss at the bar.

The kiss that had been so light it tickled, but he'd never felt an urge to laugh. Even when Iwaizumi's lips brushed over Oikawa's so softly like a memory before it happened, laughing had been the last thing on his mind because there was nothing funny about the warmth blooming in his chest or the way he wanted to grab him to kiss him again, properly this time, so hard until their mouths bruised lungs ached. The kiss that felt like it left Oikawa devoid of any nerves but was all he could feel, the kiss that gutted him but had an entire nebula explode in his chest. The kiss that stole his breath away and swept him off his feet, while breathing life into him and keeping him from floating away, a kiss that took and gave, pushed and pulled, encapsulated that exact warmth of knowing he loved and was loved.

Oikawa swallowed without quite thinking about it.

 _That_ was what a kiss was supposed to be like, he thought. Because Oikawa had experienced _that_ kiss, the exact pinnacle of what it should be like, he couldn't ever see himself settling for anything less.

Iwaizumi glanced at him, dark eyes slating without the rest of his face moving. He sat with one ankle over his knee, head leaning against one palm and elbow to the back of the couch while the other balanced his drink on his knee. He looked so effortless and he looked so at home, like he absolutely belonged here and Oikawa so desperately wished he could take Iwaizumi with him wherever he went because he was his home and he would always be his home.

"Yeah?" Iwaizumi asked, frowning. "What's up?"

Oikawa blinked and smiled, shook his head and tore away his gaze.

"Nothing," he answered lightly. He dropped his eyes to the evil juice, licked his lips and shrugged.

"Just… nothing like new lenses to change your entire perspective."

"…"

"…"

"…Did you get new glasses or—"

"Let's just watch the movie, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes suspiciously but didn't push the topic. Oikawa had settled back into his seat when he heard Iwaizumi murmur _oh_ and turned in time to see him pull out his phone, tapping at the screen. "Someone sent me a link to register for a conference that's in a few months. I don't know if I'm going, but seems like something you'd be into. You mentioned wanting to learn more about stem cell research, right?"

He'd mentioned it to Sakusa when Iwaizumi was in the room, but Oikawa felt no need to point that out, instead felt a fluttering in his chest that Iwaizumi not only would listen to him back then but also remember it until now. Oikawa's phone went off moments after Iwaizumi repocketed his phone, same sound as earlier. He leaned forward easily and felt Iwaizumi's inquisitive gaze. "Yes, Iwa-chan?" he asked without looking up, half lidded eyes reading over the text message.

"Has that always been your message tone? Thought it was more normal sounding."

"Oh," Oikawa smiled easily at him. "Iwa-chan gets his own special ones so that I always know when he's the one trying to reach me."

Iwaizumi blinked; Oikawa teased from his reaction that he guessed _he_ didn't have a special ringtone and Iwaizumi stammered that his phone was usually on silent anyway, it wouldn't even matter. Oikawa pretended to be offended before he scanned the link and hummed appreciatively, murmured _thank you, Iwa-chan_ before leaving his phone face down on the table again, leaning back. It was quiet again for a few beats and then Iwaizumi sighed.

"...It vibrates," Iwaizumi mumbled and Oikawa looked over, tilted his head. The television's light flashed, illuminated and created shadows on his face and though he couldn't always see his expression, Oikawa found that he knew what they were anyway.

"Hm?"

"My phone's always on silent, but it vibrates if it's a call or text from you," Iwaizumi grumbled, rubbing his face. "Can't even figure out how to change my default ringtone, so—"

Iwaizumi cut off abruptly and Oikawa stared at him, didn't even think to hide his reaction. He'd always had a separate melody for Iwaizumi's messages and calls; it had been one of the first things he'd learned to do when he got his phone in high school and when they started talking again, it was just natural for him to revert back to. Iwaizumi was a little bit less technologically eloquent than he was and so Oikawa honestly never expected any sort of reciprocation because unlike with him, Iwaizumi actually checked and answered his phone regularly. Because he didn't even know if Iwaizumi ever knew about his unique ringtone (after all, why would Iwaizumi try to contact him if they were together?), Oikawa hadn't had any hopes or expectations.

And yet, Iwaizumi always surpassed them.

Oikawa cleared his throat. A smile threatened despite how harshly he pressed his lips together to keep them level and he looked away, pretended he had to rub his nose to cover his mouth. "...That's kinda pervy, Iwa-chan. So I'm the only one who vibrates in your pocket?"

He looked over in time to see Iwaizumi flush.

"Sh-shut up! Look, like I said, my phone's on silent—"

"Why's it on silent?" Oikawa interrupted easily. He folded an ankle under his knee, Iwaizumi's sputtering bringing so much warmth through his body that he could be sleeping outside and not even feel the cold. "It's not like you work an office job."

He'd nearly fallen asleep at dinner at one point and had blamed the wine, but in a dimly lit room, full glass of wine buzzing through his veins and relaxed in his own couch next to Iwaizumi, sleep was the last thing to be found in Oikawa's mind.

"Do you know how annoying it would be with all the group chat notifications, both from the team and from you guys?" Iwaizumi grumbled.

"You can mute certain chats and contacts, you know," Oikawa kindly informed.

Iwaizumi huffed, slouched in his seat and crossed his arms. Oikawa couldn't help but smile, watched a twenty-seven-year-old throw a seven-year-old's type of tantrum. "It's easier to just have everyone muted and unmute people—"

"So why am I on vibrate instead of unmuted?"

"Because you've sent literally a hundred messages in fifteen minutes before and if that happened during a game, I would leave just to kill you."

Oikawa immediately laughed. Somewhere around the eleventh message he'd realized that he was being annoying and by the thirty eighth, he'd entirely leaned into it. It was Iwaizumi's fault, he thought, for not stopping him.

(He later found out Iwaizumi had been taping someone's ankle. Once he checked his phone, just seeing the sheer number of texts alarmed him and he called Oikawa, who was still crying about his drama.)

"If it really takes you fifteen minutes to react to your phone, I'd be concerned," Oikawa replied airily. "And that _was_ an emergency."

"No, it _wasn't_ ," Iwaizumi grumbled. "An emergency is if you're being chased by someone with an axe. You were just upset with how your drama ended."

"That's _big_ , Iwa-chan, do you know how rare it is for the second lead to get the girl?!"

"A hundred texts in fifteen minutes' worth?!"

"At the very least!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fell in love with sakusa and he ruined my life.
> 
> thank you for reading!! this fic is finally winding down and i promise you the happy ending is right in sight. i also made a [public twitter](https://twitter.com/umebomi)!! 
> 
> as always kudos/comments appreciated and hope everyone's 2021 will be much better than 2020 was ♡


	17. one single thread of gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i made the only good call that matters, iwa-chan. so, yes, i will let it get to my head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> this is my favorite chapter, so i hope you also enjoy it ♡

_"Hey, you like Oikawa, don't you?"_

_Hanamaki watched as Iwaizumi choked on his juice box, sputtered with a brilliant flush that definitely extended to the chest he was pounding a fist against. Smirking, he picked up his bento and brought a bite of rice to his mouth. "Take your time. I'm sure Matsukawa and Oikawa are going to take forever to get sodas."_

_Iwaizumi glowered. The glow of almost choking to death was fading, so Hanamaki was fairly sure what tinted his cheeks was a definite blush, even as he angrily took another sip of his apple juice. The four of them liked to take their lunches on the roof; whether or not that was allowed, they'd lied to Iwaizumi and said it was and he hadn't seen through the farce yet. From up there, the whistles and yells from the practice fields were distant, faces even less recognizable. That didn't stop them from peering over the ledge and pretending to be commentators, though, and Oikawa would somehow always manage to start insulting Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi would always threaten to throw him off the roof and Hanamaki and Matsukawa would always just videotape the whole thing._

_High school certainly wasn't the high point of everyone's life, but Hanamaki really was enjoying his three years with his three best friends._

_"W-what?" Iwaizumi asked at last and Hanamaki smirked as Iwaizumi hurriedly dropped his gaze. A hand came up to palm the back of his neck. "N-no, we're just—"_

_"Oikawa likes you," Hanamaki interrupted and shrugged. He took another bite of his rice and felt Iwaizumi look at him in surprise, nodded just as he opened his mouth. "Yeah, really. Everyone knows except for you."_

_Iwaizumi stared at him, eyes unblinking. When Hanamaki mumbled he was creeping him out, he grumbled an apology and looked back to his lunch, shoving rice around with his chopsticks. Hanamaki glanced over to Matsukawa's bento and after a few moments of contemplation, took one of the sausages. "Just thought you should know," he continued in a drawl, "in case you wanted to, you know, do something about it. We're in our last year of high school, so—"_

_Iwaizumi's lips nearly disappeared into a thin line. He fiddled with his chopsticks for another moment before Hanamaki heard him sigh, lean them against the edge of his lunch box. "How did you and Matsukawa…"_

_Hanamaki was mid-bite when he answered, "Hah?" and Iwaizumi immediately grimaced, pulled a face. Hanamaki closed his mouth and apologized very unapologetically, dramatically exaggerated his chewing and swallowing before answering. "How'd we start dating? Didn't we tell you guys?"_

_"No."_

_Hanamaki frowned. "We did. You just weren't listening. Were you staring at Oikawa?"_

_"N-no!"_

_"You probably were. Whatever," Hanamaki shook his head. Setting his half-finished lunch aside, he reached for his water bottle and took a sip. "It's not any kind of a grandiose story or anything. We were just hanging out one day when I asked if he wanted to grab dinner and when he said yes, I asked as a date. So then we did."_

_"…"_

_"…"_

_"…That's it?"_

_"Matsukawa and I are fundamentally different from you and Oikawa, both in terms of personality and dynamics," Hanamaki explained, waving his chopsticks around when he picked them back up. "So that worked on Matsukawa but with Oikawa, he wouldn't let you get away with something so casual. We're going to Matsukawa's after our next game in a few weeks, maybe try something then."_

_"I-I never said I wanted to date him," Iwaizumi rushed and Hanamaki looked up, genuinely surprised._

_"Really?" he asked and Iwaizumi faltered. His lips came down on the fullest part of his bottom lip and his eyes averted again. "I mean, yeah, you're not obligated to, but…"_

_At least fourteen retorts sat on the tip of Hanamaki's tongue; teasing Iwaizumi was as habitual as having history every day after chemistry and lighthearted burns came to him the way Oikawa threw up a peace sign and stuck out his tongue whenever a phone or camera lens focused on him. But the way Iwaizumi's brow knit had Hanamaki closing his mouth and swallowing them all, even frowned a bit as he watched him._

_"What if we break up?" Iwaizumi asked quietly. Hanamaki watched his brow furrow further. "How did you and Matsukawa…"_

_Hanamaki didn't answer at first. He dug around in his lunch until he found a piece of chicken he hadn't eaten and dropped it in Matsukawa's bento, stared for a few moments and then took one of his daikon in return. The crunch felt deafening, his thoughts deepening his frown more than the tang did._

_"Yeah, that's a risk," Hanamaki said finally, took a quick glance at the unmoving door. He looked up with a smirk and shrugged. "Guess we thought it was worth the risk. And being friends first for so long, you already know each other. You have more to lose, but it's also like you're already way ahead of the starting line. Just depends how much you like him and how strong you believe your friendship is."_

_Iwaizumi stared at him and pursed his lips, wrinkles in his forehead deepening. Hanamaki managed to swallow his chuckle and leaned over, picked up one of Iwaizumi's skewers. When he protested, Hanamaki answered it was his payment for the sudden Oikawa advice and Iwaizumi scowled._

_"You can also think of it this way," Hanamaki said. He held the wooden stick with one hand and used his teeth to coax off the first piece of chicken. "Could you handle it if Oikawa was dating someone else? Or would it kill you that he's dating someone who isn't you?"_

_Iwaizumi licked his lips. He poked at his rice for a bit longer and finally sighed, closing his eyes. Hanamaki nodded when Iwaizumi brought a hand to his face, watched as he swallowed and licked his lips of any lingering teriyaki sauce. "If I felt this way about Oikawa, I'd have the same reaction," he said with a sage nod._

_Iwaizumi sighed._

_"…Fuck."_

* * *

**To: Hanamaki**

_i cant do this anymore_

**From: Hanamaki**

_lol you finally realize how insufferable oikawa is? welcome to the party_

**From: Hanamaki**

_what, you mad? i've said way worse about oikawa and you've agreed_

**From: Hanamaki**

_hey answer me_

**From: Hanamaki**

_Iwaizumi?_

**From: Hanamaki**

_Iwaizumi?_

Iwaizumi woke up with a hangover that came second only to the one he'd had after his first night seeing Oikawa again.

Hearing pounding at his door, he audibly groaned and rolled over onto his side. He briefly considered getting up when he heard it was Hanamaki but a quick check of his phone later to ensure it wasn't an emergency, he shoved his head under another pillow and willed him to go away so that Iwaizumi could continue to regret all of his life choices.

Only when Hanamaki threatened to call the entire national team did Iwaizumi use the little energy he had to haul ass to the door and let him in.

"You can't just text me something like this and stop answering," Hanamaki berated immediately. Iwaizumi just groaned and held one hand to his head, other waving erratically as he stumbled into his kitchen and started rifling through his drawers. "Oikawa can because he's an overdramatic asshole, but you can't. You text me something like that, I'm going to think something's _actually_ wrong. Oikawa does and he probably just stubbed his toe."

"Shut _up_ , Hanamaki, your voice is way too loud—"

"You're sticking your hand in a drawer of knives—geez, go sit on the couch. God, this must be what parenting's like."

Acquiescing because he did feel his hand touch against several blades all at once, Iwaizumi stumbled over to his couch and unceremoniously splayed himself across the length of it, top of his head pressed to one arm rest and ankles dangling off the other. He leaned the heels of both hands into his eyes and willed the undulations in his skull to wane.

He'd ended up staying at Oikawa's far later than would be responsibly acceptable but when the cause of his bad day had been never-ending heartache and yearning for him, it was hard for Iwaizumi to willingly pry himself away. The rational part of his brain even told himself that spending time with someone he was trying to move on from was like drinking a cold brew when quitting caffeine, but his chest ached so badly he seriously wondered if there was something wrong. He was still considering scheduling a quick visit to the doctor but when his heart immediately filled upon seeing Oikawa's stupid face, he decided he didn't need a trained, medical professional to tell him he was just a lovesick idiot.

He'd stopped texting Oikawa in the middle of practice after the coach asked him to take over with drills for a few moments while he went to speak with Kuroo and even after he'd returned, Iwaizumi just stared at his phone, at Oikawa's name, at his messages, felt something inside of him both rise and crash simultaneously.

He was more than aware that continuing to be this close with Oikawa wasn't doing him any good; it fed into a delusion he didn't want to admit he desperately wanted, but drawing away when Oikawa needed him wasn't an option. Iwaizumi had told himself that he would keep a strict boundary but the more time they spent together, the more Iwaizumi began to realize there was no boundary. There never had been and there never would; he'd never be able to separate the overwhelming amount of adoration he felt for Oikawa from his actions because it drove everything he said, did, and thought.

_"Hi."_

_"Please don't," Iwaizumi sighed. "I don't have the energy for this today."_

_Kuroo laughed good naturedly, the only way he seemed to laugh and the exact opposite of his intentions. Practice had ended and Iwaizumi lingered behind as he always did, old habits from high school dying hard as he helped to clean up the gym. His arms had been laden with balls when Kuroo came up to him and though Iwaizumi knew he was approaching, held onto hope until the very end that he'd detour and talk to anybody else. "Just wanted to check in on how you two are doing," Kuroo said, following Iwaizumi as he tossed the volleyballs he was holding into the cart and went to retrieve two more from the corner of the gym._

_"Fine," Iwaizumi mumbled, realized a moment too late that Kuroo hadn't even confirmed he was talking about Oikawa. He shot him a glare that he returned with a smug smirk. "Go ask him if you're worried."_

_"Tried. He's either working or with you," Kuroo answered. "But he keeps saying you two are friends and you're definitely not just friends."_

_"We are," Iwaizumi answered tiredly, picked up one of the balls and pressed his palms to the curved leather. "We broke up and now we're just hanging out as friends again."_

_"Iwaizumi, anyone with a pulse knows you two aren't just friends," Kuroo answered easily and Iwaizumi tensed. "The only reason you insist you are is because you're idiots. The tension's so bad that even Kenma's complained about it."_

_Iwaizumi flinched, grimaced to think about even Kenma being so fed up that he'd bring up the topic with Kuroo and made a note to apologize to him; he and Oikawa had gotten lunch with him and Kuroo a few weeks ago and he'd hate for one of his early impressions on the famous Kodzuken to be one of unbearable sexual tension with an idiot._

_He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaled and knit his brow._

_"We're just friends," he repeated. "Stop imagining things or I'll spike this ball directly into your face."_

_Kuroo laughed._

_"Go for it. You're short, you'll be easy to block."_

_Bokuto and Hinata, who had gone to retrieve some more towels, came back to Kuroo lying face down on the ground after being hit square in the back with a ball and Iwaizumi threatening to actually hit his face next time._

"Here. Aspirin and coffee. This's actually mine, but I think you could use it more, so just buy me one later."

Iwaizumi scoffed weakly but thanked him, took the two offered pills and plastic cup, pads of his fingers digging into the edges of the lid. He gave it back to Hanamaki once he'd swallowed and laid back down, wincing and crossing his arms over his eyes, grunted when Hanamaki quietly asked how worried he should be.

"You don't drink, Iwaizumi. You never really did, especially not this much, _especially_ after you started hanging out with Oikawa again."

Iwaizumi didn't answer. He pressed his lips into a thin line before releasing them, moved his chest with a sigh. If he stayed still, the Godzilla of a hangover behind his eyes could almost behave, but without that distraction, he was left with the sickening memory of Oikawa being on a date and even knowing that he'd kicked his date out for Iwaizumi didn't make him feel better.

The rest of the week passed precariously, the two of them texting again and seeing each other at Atsumu's sessions. Sakusa had shown up to the one on Friday; Iwaizumi had been surprised when he was the second one to enter the room and actually pulled out his phone to check the date.

_"Uh… shouldn't—"_

_"Coach said it was all right for me to be here," Sakusa said. He was dressed in a hoodie and trackpants, duffel slung over his shoulder. It was what he normally wore on the way to and from practice and Iwaizumi wondered if that was where he was headed to next, if he'd leave in the next minute or the next hour. That, however, still left him wondering why he was here in the first place._

_Iwaizumi scratched his head. "I mean, great, but that's not exactly why I'm—your treatment's done, isn't it? Or did you hurt yourself again? I swear, Sakusa, if you did—"_

_The door opened again, cutting him off. Oikawa's morning greeting cut off at the sight of Sakusa and he just stared at him for a few moments before looking at Iwaizumi. "Iwa-chan, did we go back in time? Do we hate each other again?"_

_Iwaizumi twitched. "Shut up, I don't know why he's here!"_

_"Ah…? But he's one of yours…"_

_"Stop talking about him like he's my kid!"_

_Oikawa smiled at Sakusa, who returned his greeting with a nod. Iwaizumi was still watching him suspiciously when Oikawa came over to him and asked if he really didn't know why he was there; Iwaizumi snapped of course he didn't, he would've given him a heads up. Iwaizumi's gaze was fixated on Sakusa, though Oikawa lingering so close made it difficult to properly focus._

_Sakusa looked up from his phone, blinked._

_"I'm here for Atsumu's session."_

_A pause._

_"So we're not in the past," Oikawa whispered and even though Iwaizumi loved him more than there were stars in the universe, he wanted to punch him._

_Iwaizumi cleared his throat._

_"…Atsumu… knows you're here, right?"_

_As if on cue, the door opened for the third time since Iwaizumi had been there and all three pairs of eyes veered towards it, a seemingly half-asleep Atsumu walking in. He was mid-yawn and once his mouth closed, he looked up and immediately made eye contact with Sakusa. His face lit up in a way that Iwaizumi hadn't thought would be possible, a genuinely bright expression and smile that, after stealing a glance, if it weren't for his mask, Iwaizumi had a good feeling he'd see mirrored on Sakusa's lips._

_"Omi-kun, ya made it."_

_"Asked if I could come in late on Fridays and Coach said it was fine," Sakusa answered and Atsumu beamed._

_"Yer welcome, ya know. Glad ta be yer excuse ta slack."_

_"I'm not slacking. I'll make it up by staying late the other days of the week."_

_"Geez, chill out Omi-kun, wontcha? Or yer just gonna end up back 'ere, 'nd I'm gonna have'ta ask if I can skip practice too—"_

_Oikawa cleared his throat so loudly that even Iwaizumi flinched. Sakusa just blinked but Atsumu nearly toppled over, arms instinctively coming up as if he was about to karate chop him. "Th-the fuck! How long you two been standin' there?!"_

_"This whole time," Iwaizumi snapped and crossed his arms, squinted at Atsumu._

_Oikawa hummed. "Did you forget to mention something to us, Tsumu-chan?"_

_"W-why're ya actin' like my parents?! Ya never said I couldn't invite Omi-kun!"_

_"You never brought up you were going to ask him," Oikawa explained patiently, tilted his head and smiled. "It's fine, but you went through such protocol with Iwa-chan."_

_"What, ya hate Omi-kun?!"_

_"I actually quite like him. He was an excellent patient."_

_Sakusa nodded appreciatively as Atsumu went over to him, sat in the chair he was standing by even though he normally took the one closer to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi stared at him; he opened his mouth but, as if Oikawa knew, grazed a hand along his forearm and mumbled that it was fine. "Thank you, Oikawa-san," Sakusa answered, though Iwaizumi could hardly hear, all senses working together to process Oikawa's brief touch._

_Atsumu bristled._

_"Omi-kun, shut up!"_

Oikawa had mentioned in a text that he'd told Yokota that they wouldn't work out and Iwaizumi hated the relief he felt at that. He hated it almost as much as the pit of discomfort at realizing that Yokota was just one person and Oikawa Tooru had an entire line of people who wanted to date him when he was ready, which, it seemed that he _was_ and Iwaizumi wasn't allowed into that line.

Having Oikawa in his life was the bare minimum for Iwaizumi to feel like he was able to survive but he wanted more than just what was needed and survival wasn't living. He'd tempered what he wanted for so long because he still held onto the guilt of hurting Oikawa that badly in the past, reiterated to himself over and over that he wanted what Oikawa wanted.

But that wasn't true because even if Oikawa didn't want him in that sense anymore, he was still all Iwaizumi wanted.

He wanted to be with him, he wanted to hold him, he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to be able to tell Oikawa just how much he meant to him, he wanted to spend his entire life with him. He wanted late nights and later mornings, he wanted pet adopting, he wanted silverware choosing, he wanted dishwashing fights, he wanted a life with the person who his world had always centered around. He wanted _him_ , entirely and wholly so and while these were all things he could do as a friend, it wasn't the same. It would just be a matter of time until Oikawa was dating again and Iwaizumi would be slotted to the best friend who, while important, still wasn't the person he was in love with, the person he'd promise to be with for the rest of his life.

Iwaizumi wanted to be selfish, he wanted Oikawa all to himself, he wanted to tell him all of this despite knowing where Oikawa was and how he felt. He wanted to let him know that he was still inconceivably in love with him and that it felt like he'd never be able to move on, even if Oikawa was able to; he'd always be head over heels for him as long as the waves crested and planets rotated. Even if Oikawa one day became someone else's and Iwaizumi was just a distant memory to him, to Iwaizumi, Oikawa would still be everything; he couldn't explain how he was so sure about it, but he was; it was the single truth in the universe that Iwaizumi could always come back and rely on.

"This is about Oikawa, isn't it?"

Hanamaki's voice cut through a heavy silence that rested on Iwaizumi's chest and filled his lungs at the same time. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he gave a single nod and heard Hanamaki exhaling, tears springing to his eyes. He pressed his arms down harder against his eyes until stars speckled the back of his eyelids.

"Iwaizumi…" Hanamaki started and trailed off. "…Matsukawa and I joke around with you a lot, but… you can't keep doing this to yourself. We can't keep watching you tear yourself apart for him."

"I'm not—"

"And if Oikawa knew it hurt you this much to pretend you're fine just hanging out with him as a friend, do you think that would make him happy?" Hanamaki interjected and Iwaizumi's lips clamped together. His nails dug into his palms and he finally moved, winced at the dull headache as he turned his face towards the back of the couch. "Iwa—"

"So, what, I'm supposed to just abandon him again?" Iwaizumi asked in a tight voice, kept his eyes screwed shut. "I can't. He needs someone right now and I let him down once—"

"Oikawa isn't your responsibility," Hanamaki said, voice sounding clearer. Iwaizumi gulped. "I'm not saying that you should abandon him, but… he has me and Matsukawa. I admire how loyal you are to him, but Iwaizumi, you seriously need to think about yourself sometimes. I say that as both your and his friend because I love you both. If you're really going to move on from him…"

"I don't want to move on," Iwaizumi mumbled without thinking. His own voice echoed in his ears and though his breath caught in his throat at having admitted it, he didn't try and take it back. Inhaling, he winced but pushed himself up and drew his knees to his chest for his elbows to rest on, leaned his forehead against the heels of his palm and kept his eyes closed. "…I don't want to move on from him," he repeated quietly, voice cracking.

It was the first week he could remember where he made up excuses when Oikawa asked if he wanted to get lunch or dinner; they'd gone from spending the majority of their free time with each other to only seeing the other at Atsumu's sessions. Iwaizumi always apologized and promised he'd make it up to him; he'd never liked saying no to Oikawa, especially multiple times in a row and had to power his phone off to keep from instinctively texting him back to change his mind.

The memory of almost kissing Oikawa sank into his mind like the stench of cigarettes: how close they'd been, how he'd felt every tremble of Oikawa's breath against his lips, how it felt they were exchanging air, how nothing in the entire universe mattered except that single moment when they were together. How Oikawa's tears rolled down his cheek and then traced the shape of Iwaizumi's palm, how his skin was so, so soft to the touch, how every inhale was a fight to keep himself from lurching forward and claiming Oikawa's mouth as his own, how he wanted to color his lips red and swollen, how he felt drunk without a single drop of alcohol, how he wanted to absolutely devour Oikawa to keep a part of him in his heart forever.

How in that moment, he held his entire world in his hands and still felt like it was so far away and out of reach and that pulling back was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

It had been second nature to drop everything for Oikawa and somewhere between thinking of Oikawa while with Atsumu and holding him as he cried, Iwaizumi realized he'd never stop feeling a nebula of adoration for him, no matter how hard he tried, no matter who he dated, no matter who Oikawa dated. The way he felt for him felt ingrained in the fabric of the universe before even the first stars flickered, left Iwaizumi breathless and full of air all at once because it was the sort of love he couldn't temper or control, it was just the sort of love he'd have to drown himself in to breathe.

He'd managed to survive the entire workweek with this pillory of truth and as soon as practice ended on Friday, he'd veered into the liquor store on the way home, bought all the alcohol he'd kept himself from indulging in once he and Oikawa were speaking again.

"I want him," Iwaizumi said, voice shaking as his fingers clutched his hair. "I want _him_ , I want the stupid fucking asshole. I want to be with him, I don't want to be just his friend. I don't want to be the best friend he confides to when he's dating someone new or his best man at his wedding, I want to _be_ the person he's dating and the person he's marrying. I can't do this anymore, where I pretend I'll be over him one day because I won't, even if I know how he feels, I—"

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, eyes stinging and heart thundering in his chest. "I love him and I'm never gonna stop and it's… fucking killing me to pretend otherwise."

He broke off with a gasp, mumbled _fuck_ under his breath. His head dropped until it buried into his arms and Iwaizumi felt the cushion he was on dip with Hanamaki's weight, an elbow on his shoulder blade and Hanamaki sighing. A hiccupped sob he couldn't quite quell moved his body, though he managed a short laugh when Hanamaki complained about Iwaizumi being a horrible armrest.

"It's about time you finally admitted all that," Hanamaki said quietly and Iwaizumi sniffled. "Honestly, Iwaizumi… sometimes you're even more stubborn than Oikawa, which is saying something."

"Shut up. You'll make me regret not drunk texting Matsukawa."

"Well, Matsukawa's phone's always charged. He would've seen your text at 1 a.m. and this would be a much less productive conversation if you were still drunk out of your mind."

Iwaizumi smirked weakly into his arms and sniffled again. It took another moment before he raised his just enough for him to rub at his eyes, breathing in and feeling his ribs rattle with his exhale. "I'm never going to stop feeling this way about him," he mumbled.

"Yeah," Hanamaki said quietly. "I know."

Iwaizumi's eyes remained closed, felt his brow knit. His upstairs neighbors had hooves for feet, he'd decided long ago, and he heard them traipsing around, their television muffled but cheering had him assuming they were watching some game. Outside, he heard bikes ringing and calls, a dog barking and motorcycles speeding by. The world was moving; the world was always moving, even when Iwaizumi felt like his was suspended, breath bated because his world moved only with Oikawa.

"You have to tell him this," Hanamaki said and Iwaizumi stiffened. He shook his head and Hanamaki clicked his tongue, flicked the back of his head afterwards. "Yeah, you do."

"He's explicitly said—"

"He doesn't know you feel this way, though," Hanamaki interrupted. "Iwaizumi, your problem is that you bend like water for Oikawa. You're literally incapable of saying no and leaving it at that when it comes to him and I think the only reason this hasn't been more destructive is because you, unlike Oikawa, communicate clearly, so Oikawa never purposely tramples all over you. But right now? He has to know."

Iwaizumi shook his head again, ignored the persisting headache spurred by his tears. "No, he needs me—if he knew, he'd…"

"He cares about you just as much as you care about him," Hanamaki said and Iwaizumi bit his lip. "If your positions were reversed, would you really be okay knowing that Oikawa was this hurt and you unknowingly made it worse? You can't sacrifice yourself entirely for him like this, especially when we all know this would be the last thing he wants. And if he knows how you feel… maybe he'd change his mind about dating."

"No, he—"

"Oikawa's afraid," Hanamaki said quietly, "and the same way you'd lay down a million bricks one by one for him, he'd be the one to cement them for you."

Iwaizumi hesitated.

"Oikawa would never do hard labor like that."

Hanamaki laughed, flicked his head again. "It's the metaphor, shut up. The point is, if he knew you wanted to be with him, it could cause him to start thinking about it because everyone needs _something_ to spur them out of their comfort zone, you know?

Iwaizumi licked his lips. His fingers furled and unfurled a few times and he finally raised his head, half-lidded eyes staring at his blank wall, thought back to when they were little, how Oikawa's room had been so bare but Iwaizumi's had been decorated with pictures and posters. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few more moments and sighed again, this time leaning back against Hanamaki. "…What if it scares him off?" he asked quietly, brow knitting. "What if he thinks it's too much and cuts me off again?"

Hanamaki hummed. Iwaizumi felt him moving slowly, his elbow coming off his shoulder and supporting his back until he had resituated himself and their backs leaned against each other. "The way you're so determined to stay by him right now… I get the feeling he's the same way. He doesn't want to lose you again, no matter what. You've trusted Oikawa wholeheartedly when it matters the most, even when you two were at each other's throats."

Iwaizumi's frown deepened. His eyes dropped to the chipping crown lining the bottom of his wall. "…I don't know," he mumbled, "I trust him, but our breakup in high school…"

"You were both acting out of hurt and self-preservation and you've talked all that out," Hanamaki said. "I mean, it's a valid concern, I'm not trying to dismiss you or anything. I'm just being the voice of reason you're scared to listen to because it'll make you hope. You need to be as brave for yourself as you'd be to protect Oikawa."

Iwaizumi didn't answer and when Hanamaki took a deep breath, he felt the movement against his back even before he heard it.

"You can also think of it this way," Hanamaki said. Iwaizumi's eyes closed and for just a moment, almost felt as if he were back on the roof of Seijoh, when everything was simpler and his biggest concern was his upcoming history finals.

"Could you handle it if Oikawa was dating someone else? Or would it kill you that he's dating someone who isn't you?"

* * *

Both Hanamaki and Iwaizumi's headache had left him by the time Oikawa texted to ask if he wanted to get lunch. He didn't know what Hanamaki could possibly have planned that day, being unemployed and all, but he just glared at Iwaizumi's questioning, said he still maintained a strict schedule.

_"So what are you doing?"_

_"Gonna go buy some new socks."_

Iwaizumi felt bad for turning down Oikawa a fourth time in a row, but just his phone vibrating on the coffee table had Iwaizumi almost doing somersaults from the kitchen to try and answer as soon as he could and if he was acrobatic enough to do that, reaching across a table to grab Oikawa to kiss him would be even easier. He texted back _no, sorry, have work to catch up on_ but followed up with _tomorrow?_

His phone buzzed almost immediately with _okay!_ and a string of emojis that Iwaizumi couldn't help but smile at.

He spent the rest of the day cleaning his apartment and hearing Hanamaki's voice echoing, felt like his heart thudded with every syllable. Despite his grandiose, obnoxious nature, Oikawa Tooru was more selfless than anyone Iwaizumi knew; he'd just show it quietly in a way that a lot of people didn't realize until he was gone. Even Iwaizumi hadn't realized how much of him Oikawa had allowed Iwaizumi to shatter until almost a decade later and as if no time had passed, Iwaizumi wanted to do absolutely everything for the person who gave him absolutely everything. If Oikawa's fault was not communicating, then Iwaizumi's was bending over backwards.

Ever since he'd been little, he'd always wanted to make Oikawa happy. He'd always loved being why Oikawa was smiling and constantly swallowed what he wanted. When they had been in high school, Iwaizumi had waited weeks for the rerun of a movie he wasn't able to find a copy of but at the last minute, Oikawa excitedly asked if he wanted to watch a new alien documentary with him. Iwaizumi didn't care about aliens; he wasn't so narrow-minded to not believe in them, but he definitely wasn't nearly as fanatical as Oikawa was, and yet one look at Oikawa's bright face had him nodding.

He didn't know how Oikawa found out but not even a week later, he'd shown up at Iwaizumi's door with a USB drive and a smile, tilting his head. _"Iwa-chan, you waited so long for this movie, you know we could've just recorded my documentary instead, right? That would've been so much easier; do you know how hard it was for me to track this down?!"_

Hanamaki was right; Oikawa recognized the lengths Iwaizumi would go to for him and if he didn't catch himself in time, he'd always find some way to make it up to him without Iwaizumi ever having to ask. It kept their relationship from ever veering off balance: Oikawa keeping Iwaizumi from giving up everything without asking and Iwaizumi keeping Oikawa honest.

But they'd been kids and they were adults now; Iwaizumi realized the sickening hypocrisy of his wanting to be there to support Oikawa for whatever he needed but to not take even a single step towards taking care of himself.

Oikawa texted him the address of a new okonomiyaki place one of his patients had recommended and when Iwaizumi asked if it was Atsumu, he angrily texted back that he had more patients than just the national team.

Iwaizumi woke up as early as he always did. Even though he'd tried to take his time with his workout and shower, it was still too early to start heading towards the restaurant, and yet Iwaizumi, almost forty minutes early, turned the corner to see Oikawa sitting on a bench and scrolling through his phone.

His heart both skipped and dropped at the same time, essentially leaping off a plane with no parachute, straight into Oikawa's arm ten thousand feet below.

"What the hell? Can you not tell time?" he called and Oikawa looked up with a start, easily relaxed into feigned pout after a smile.

"But Iwa-chan's really early too…"

Oikawa's smile brightened as Iwaizumi drew closer, who responded with a tired smirk. He'd been nervous all morning, Hanamaki's voice continued to ring in his mind and yet as soon as he saw the way Oikawa's lips curved, his heart felt like it gave in on itself and all Iwaizumi was aware of was sunlight warming him from the inside out instead of having a taiko drum live in his chest. It was silent, but the peaceful kind, a soft white noise like drizzle instead of screeching static, the sort he'd fall asleep to instead of be startled awake by. "Stupid," he grumbled once he was close enough. "When did you get here?"

"Only about ten minutes before Iwa-chan," Oikawa answered, thanked him when he opened the door. "I guess I was a little nervous."

"Hah? Why?"

The hostess beamed at them and Oikawa smiled, nodding to confirm it was just them. She led them to a booth and chirped that their waitress would be with them soon, hurried back to the entrance when the door opened again, voices filling the initially quiet restaurant. Iwaizumi slid into the booth first, pushed one of the menus towards Oikawa before taking the second for himself.

"Honestly, I was worried Iwa-chan was avoiding me," Oikawa said and Iwaizumi tensed. He'd halfway opened his menu when he looked up to see Oikawa gazing evenly at him, a small pause in his smile the only indication he was nervous. "…Were you?"

Iwaizumi stared at him and he brought a hand up, palming the back of his neck. "…N-no," he mumbled, tugging at his right ear and knitting his brow, felt Oikawa's gaze following his hand. "I was just busy this week. Sorry I gave off that impression."

Oikawa didn't believe him; it was the way he paused before murmuring _okay_ and that second that elapsed before Iwaizumi looking up, caught Oikawa's gaze before his dropped to the menu. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he willed himself to keep from reaching out for his hand and leaned back just to add more distance. "Just… the team," he found himself mumbling, "Sakusa and Atsumu are… well, I heard they're dating finally but somehow that translates to them insulting each other more during practice. The whole Yaku situation's getting a little out of hand and Kuroo keeps—"

"It's okay, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said softly. Iwaizumi bit his lip and looked up to see him smiling quietly, gaze concentrated on laminated pages in leather bindings. "I'm not mad, I'm just glad you showed up today. Do you still like agedashi tofu?"

Iwaizumi hesitated but Oikawa's fastidiousness in staring at the menu had him exhaling, his breath carrying _yeah_ after clearing his throat. "You've been here before?"

"Mattsun and I came a few days ago," Oikawa replied easily and Iwaizumi frowned.

"Only a few days ago? This place that good?"

"It is, but also the tofu was really good so I wanted Iwa-chan to try it," he answered and Iwaizumi nearly choked on his water, cubes clinking against each other and the glass. Oikawa grinned, gently kicked his foot under the table, unintentionally sending high voltage straight up his leg and to his brain. "Iwa-chan, you're so jumpy. I'm really going to start thinking you only came today out of guilt."

"Sh-shut—of course not!"

Oikawa smiled again and after Iwaizumi nodded to _do you know what you want?_ he finally took a sip of water as Oikawa called over their waitress. She arrived with a chipper smile that was focused mostly on Oikawa and Iwaizumi didn't bat an eye; Oikawa had always had an effervescence about him and if Iwaizumi got jealous every time someone was attracted to him, he'd never be able to get anything done in his life. The idea of Oikawa dating someone made him want to shove his head into a cart of volleyballs, but he had long ago gotten used to people flirting with him.

He glanced up when he heard Oikawa flirt back and waited until she left to glare lightly at him. "You still flirt with waitresses, huh?"

"Only if they flirt first," Oikawa rebutted and leaned forward to rest his chin in his palm. "What, is Iwa-chan jealous?"

Iwaizumi scoffed. "As if. I've been watching you flirt with anything that moves since we were kids. You once tried to sweet talk an automatic door that wasn't registering your presence to open."

"Iwa-chan's the one still dating, isn't he?" Oikawa continued without missing a beat and Iwaizumi flinched, knee bumping against the table. "So if anyone has a reason to be jealous, it's _me_. After all, I gracefully broke it off with Yokkun earlier this week."

Iwaizumi felt death approaching him in the form of suffocation just as humiliation decided to drop by in the form of painting his cheeks red. "I—you—what— _why_ —?"

Oikawa smiled, perfectly symmetric and perfectly even. "Please, Iwa-chan, use your words."

Iwaizumi couldn't quite bring himself to look at Oikawa; no matter how close they were again, there remained a small but obvious black hole in the universe they created together. Oikawa saying unexpected things at inopportune times with no shame whatsoever was coded into his genetics ( _his_ specifically, because his sister had tact and social grace) but Iwaizumi had thought that black hole enough for him to bite his tongue. Some topics they avoided without having to discuss why and Iwaizumi felt like Oikawa had jumped headfirst into the black hole and, of course, Iwaizumi would follow him without thinking twice about it.

Taking a long sip of water, Iwaizumi felt Oikawa's gaze on him the entire time, never once wavering and never once flickering. He was waiting for an answer, Iwaizumi thought numbly, and that thought terrified him more than the fact that Oikawa was teasing a topic they were still avoiding. Oikawa was generally an evasive person when it came to anything important, but he could also be stunningly direct, especially as of late; Iwaizumi didn't know what kind of an answer he was expecting, then promptly realized that was probably why he asked.

If Oikawa knew, he wouldn't bother to ask a question that surely had to be unnerving him as well, despite how calm he seemed.

Iwaizumi licked his lips and set down his glass. Oikawa knew how he felt; it was something neither of them needed to say and something so obvious that they didn't need a lifetime of knowing each other to be able to tell. It was the lingering gazes and smiles with tilted heads, the fleeting touches and the almost kisses that left Iwaizumi awake all night. Oikawa wouldn't lead him on; if he didn't feel the same way, he would've pushed him away but he didn't and if Iwaizumi hadn't pulled back when he did, he thought Oikawa may have been the one to close the distance.

But as obvious as their feelings were, Oikawa had explicitly said he didn't want to be with him and as much as it devastated Iwaizumi, as long as he could decimate any hope of being with him, he truly believed that he'd be all right eventually. To him, it had always been about Oikawa. Everything was about Oikawa in one way or another because he was the center of his universe, the sun that broke the horizon and the moon that melted into it.

Oikawa could break Iwaizumi's heart but as long as he was happy, he knew that one day he'd be all right again because that was the way he loved him, wholly and selflessly.

"I'm not seeing him anymore," Iwaizumi mumbled finally. "That date was the only one."

Oikawa didn't betray any emotion in his expression. "Why not?"

_Because of you, dumbass. Compared to you, I feel nothing for anyone else._

Iwaizumi racked his brain. Everything that transpired that day after the date left Iwaizumi's brain so fried that he could barely remember anything from the date except that Matsukawa had set him up with someone named Tooru and Iwaizumi still had to kill him. "He… plays soccer."

Oikawa was quiet and batted his eyes a few times. The restaurant was filling up; chatter filled the spaces between their words and sentences, but this one seemed deafening, overpowered even a crash from the kitchen and flurry of apologies.

Oikawa hummed and then cleared his throat.

"…That's an odd dealbreaker for Iwa-chan."

Oikawa's gaze was sharper than taking one of Sakusa's spikes to the chest, which Iwaizumi had experienced firsthand. His hand twitched, jostled the glass against the table. There'd only been a few times where Oikawa would look at him like this; he seemed to have an uncanny ability to tell when Iwaizumi was lying. Iwaizumi wasn't a good liar, by any means, especially when compared to Oikawa, but with his track record of honesty, he usually managed to get by with the white lies he told.

Oikawa, though, always picked up on them and he'd just accepted it as another unfortunate fact of life that he'd never be able to successfully lie to him.

Iwaizumi's eyes darted around, desperately hoped for the waitress to show up again. He caught sight of her, cheerfully chatting with another table and smiling. As a last resort, he glanced at the window and wondered how quickly Hanamaki and Matsukawa could get here if he texted. Not fast enough, he answered himself, because he'd have to text _and_ wait when Oikawa was already waiting for his response.

He cleared his throat and fidgeted, reached a hand up, fingers tracing the curve of his ear. "W-well, I don't like soccer, so—"

"And that's it?" Oikawa asked and Iwaizumi almost knocked over his glass this time, wondered why he was being interrogated. "Iwa-chan dumped a perfectly nice guy because he plays soccer instead of volleyball?"

He frowned. "I didn't dump him, we weren't actually dating—"

"It's not because Iwa-chan's still hung up on someone?"

Iwaizumi flinched. The waitress came over this time and cheerfully informed them their food was on the way; Oikawa smiled for both of them, this time still pleasant but fleetingly. Iwaizumi grabbed his water and took another sip, condensation from melting ice leaving the glass slippery to the touch. His tongue ran over his lips as he set it down and couldn't bring himself to look at Oikawa, though saw the way his perfectly symmetric smile turned lopsided and slighter once she left. "Hm?" he prompted quietly.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat. He brought a hand up to tug at his ear. "N-n-no, it's because, well, s-soccer's fucked up—"

"You're lying," Oikawa said and was smiling gently when Iwaizumi looked up. "…Iwa-chan tugs on his right ear when he lies. He always has."

Breath catching in his throat, Iwaizumi stared at him for a moment too long. To anyone else, it would have been just a moment that he could brush off.

But this wasn't anyone; this was Oikawa, who knew what every look and every miniscule movement of Iwaizumi's meant. Iwaizumi's cheeks smoldered and it didn't help that throughout this entire conversation, Oikawa's gaze never left him. His one saving grace was that Oikawa had opted to say _someone_ instead of _me_ , but that felt like a tiny victory when it was so obvious. They both knew what was going on, it more of a cordiality than anything for Oikawa to offer the guise of talking about someone else.

It _barely_ made it easier, though.

Licking his lips and taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi cleared his throat. He dropped his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "…Yeah," he admitted quietly. "There's someone I can't move on from."

Oikawa didn't answer at first and though he didn't know when he looked away, the way he moved back was enough for him to breathe without wondering if Oikawa was deciphering it in his head. He swallowed; Iwaizumi had always been an "actions were louder than words" sort of person, but words had never been his forte. He wouldn't think twice about his lingering gaze or brushing his arm against Oikawa's, but being asked verbally about his feelings left him all too aware of what he was admitting to.

"…Yet?" Oikawa asked quietly. His voice was so small, sounded so frail that it shattered Iwaizumi to keep his hands on his side of the table instead of reaching over to grab him.

Iwaizumi knew the answer; he'd known even before he'd ever asked himself the question, because it was so obvious. Whether or not he was ready to date someone would never depend on his feelings for Oikawa lessening, because they never would. What Iwaizumi felt for Oikawa, he knew, was forever. It didn't matter if they would never be together; his love for Oikawa wasn't conditional on a relationship with him, it was something the universe had planned before they were ever even born.

Iwaizumi loved Oikawa in a soul-wrenching way that he wouldn't have any other way. He loved him so much that he had thought it was hate at one point because passion didn't always discern itself between love and hate and only one needed a reason. Oikawa's touch sent solar flares over his skin and whenever he smiled, Iwaizumi thought the glowing bioluminscence (a chemical reaction between luciferin and either luciferase or photoprotein, Oikawa had chirped in their biology class) that ebbed gently on waves had found a way to reflect on his heart. And even when they weren't doing anything, when Oikawa was just reading or staring off to the side or even if he was doing something incredibly stupid, there'd be a moment where Iwaizumi would stop and stare at him, finally understand how it was possible for the total entropy in the universe to always be increasing because some things were truly limitless. It was gross and it was embarrassing and it was a pain, but Iwaizumi loved Oikawa in a way that would never end, even when time itself did.

He pressed his lips together, looked up and though Oikawa's eyes were downcast, saw something flicker through them that he couldn't decrypt. Oikawa's chin had been in his palm this entire time; while he'd been fidgeting, Oikawa had been still, just watching him and now they'd reversed. Oikawa's free hand drummed along the table as Iwaizumi remained still save his breathing, watched the person his world revolved and shaped around.

"…Don't make me say it," he said quietly, locking their gazes when Oikawa's chin raised. "You already know, Shittykawa."

Oikawa blinked; he blinked once and then again, the third time finally averting his gaze and Iwaizumi heard him quietly breathe 'oh.' He watched the way Oikawa's fingers curled, scratching lightly against his cheek as he focused his gaze on the coaster under his glass, the lightest of blushes dusting his fair cheeks. His hand pivoted, back of his lips pressed to his downturned lips. This time, Iwaizumi was the one who kept a steady gaze on Oikawa and Oikawa wasn't able to return it; seeing the way he worried his lip when his hand moved left Iwaizumi's heart aching as he thought what he'd give to replace Oikawa's teeth with his own lips.

His cheeks dusted pink the way they did when they'd pulled back from their second kiss in high school, but he didn't smile shyly the way he did back then.

His cheeks dusted pink the way they did when Iwaizumi gave him his horribly made chocolates, but he didn't beam the way he did back then.

His cheeks dusted pink, but he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"…But you'll date eventually, right?" Oikawa asked quietly, scraped a nail along the table.

Iwaizumi bit his cheek. _No_ was on the tip of his tongue. _No. I want you, I only want you, you're the only one for me, you're the love of my life; how could I ever be with anyone else when you exist?_

"…I guess so," Iwaizumi mumbled instead with a heavy sigh and looked away. "But that would… be a long way down the road. Really, really long way."

Oikawa hummed. Iwaizumi wasn't trying to watch him, but his peripheral vision focused on every single movement Oikawa made, even if it was in the furthest corner of his eye. Oikawa lowered his hand and started to play with his fingers instead. "…This person," he started slowly and Iwaizumi's heart decided to pick up hopscotch, "what you feel for them, is it… mostly nostalgia? Or would you actually want to be with them?"

Iwaizumi forgot to breathe because when he looked up, the faint smile Oikawa was wearing obliterated his heart.

He looked sad; that was Iwaizumi's first thought, that he looked sad and it made Iwaizumi want to grab his face across the table and kiss him until both of their lungs collapsed. Iwaizumi had seen Oikawa at devastation and at heartbreak, at pure misery and self-loathing, but the simple quietness of being _sad_ somehow hurt him more than anything, reminded him of when he'd run out on his date how in the bright sunlight of a busy Tokyo neighborhood, all that Iwaizumi could focus on was how Oikawa looked sad and he'd have done anything to change that.

There was a certain peace that came with the acceptance of sadness, and Iwaizumi didn't want to imagine Oikawa recognizing that as his default.

Inhaling shakily, Iwaizumi drummed all ten of his fingers to refocus and keep all of his limbs to himself. He tried to fill in the gaps to discern Oikawa's real question and tried to formulate a response at the same time; he didn't want to make assumptions but also didn't want to inadvertently give Oikawa false hope _just in case_ Oikawa was thinking about something that paralyzed his lungs. He'd hurt Oikawa enough and though he would gladly break his own heart to keep Oikawa's intact, Hanamaki's words echoed in his mind again and Iwaizumi swallowed, wondered if it was really okay to be selfish with someone he'd hurt so much in the past.

Licking his lips and pressing them into a thin line, Iwaizumi closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled when they opened again. "…My first memories are with this person. I remember catching a beetle and showing it to them and the way they smiled…" Iwaizumi trailed off, smiled by the time he realized and shook his head, half-lidded eyes focused on his water.

"I grew up with this person. I knew this person before I knew anything else and when you grow up with someone like that, everything I feel is going to be partly nostalgia, of course."

He glanced up and Oikawa's gaze flickered to his. Iwaizumi shrugged again and looked away, fingers dancing along his arms, cotton polyester blend dulling the sensation to his skin. He sat forward, sharp elbows pressing to glossy wood. "But that's not all, I don't just feel this way because of the comfort of childhood and knowing them. That's important to me but the way I feel… the way I feel is so much more than that. When I look at them, I think of growing up. I think of scaling fences and running through rain and scraping our knees. I think of cramming for midterms and staying late to hit a few more balls. I think of summer festivals and sharing snacks and joint birthdays up until we were in middle school. I think of every single important event in my life up until high school."

Iwaizumi paused and licked his lips, teeth coming down to chew his lip for a moment. He sighed and folded his arms; pressing his elbows to the table, he felt Oikawa watching him but focused his own gaze on the reflection of the light on the table between them. "…I also see the person they've become when I wasn't with them," he continued. "I see who they've grown into and all they've accomplished and all they survived, how they've surpassed every single expectation I've had for them, even when they were sky high. I see how they continue to push themselves to grow, the kind of ambition that makes me want to do the same. I see someone who's never satisfied with how they are and always striving to be the best version of who they could be and that motivates me to do the same. I see someone who's so selfless and gives everything to the people he cares about, to the point where I want to give all of myself to them in return. Even now, all those things are what I fell in love with in the first place. I don't love that person because they were my comfort, they're my comfort because of how I feel. They're the strongest person I know and being in love with them…"

His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. Everything he said felt like it echoed in the vacuum that encapsulated them at the table; nothing outside of the small space mattered, it was just him and Oikawa and his feelings.

"It's not just nostalgia," Iwaizumi said and looked up to meet Oikawa's eyes. His entire body felt like it had gone up in flames but the moment their gazes met, his next breath left his skin numb. "It's… not just the past. It's the present and the future. It's everything."

Oikawa was right, he thought, he just said what he felt.

Only Oikawa would be able to elicit such a cheesy speech out of him; only Oikawa would ever be the recipient of something so heartfelt that left Iwaizumi wanting to melt into a puddle at actually saying out loud. He was an honest person in general but when it came to Oikawa, Iwaizumi laid himself absolutely bare because he had nothing to hide from him.

Oikawa's cheeks were a darker pink now, the same pink he'd have when Iwaizumi stole kisses in high school, the same pink when Iwaizumi accidentally yelled "of course I like you, dumbass!" a little too loudly during practice. The pink that made Iwaizumi want to grab and kiss him, if only to keep that blush painted onto his complexion because that pink was accompanied with a shyness that was foreign but utterly charming on him.

Iwaizumi couldn't quite make out what Oikawa breathed as his eyes diverted and focused on the way he pushed his hair back. Inhaling, his shoulders came up and when they relaxed following his exhale, he looked up and licked his lips, shuddered at his next question before he'd the sound of his voice even carried the syllables.

"…Do you still want to be with that person?"

Iwaizumi stared at him and inhaled sharply because it wasn't often that Oikawa would be serious for more than five minutes, but when he was, _oh god_ , he clearly had no idea how easily he could break Iwaizumi apart.

Iwaizumi had to close his eyes, afraid that if he watched Oikawa for just another moment, he'd lose all self-restraint and lunge across the table. He licked his lips and dug his nails into his arms, let anxiety stiffen his body for another moment before remembering that he was talking to Oikawa and instantly relaxed because this was the one person he trusted to never hurt him again, no matter what he said.

"Yeah," he said softly and looked up, saw Oikawa's eyes widen. Iwaizumi offered a lopsided smile. "…Yeah, I do. For a while I told myself that I didn't want to because they didn't and I was fine with it and of course if they don't want to… I'm fine with it. Because to me, what I ultimately want is for them to be happy. But if you're asking me what I want?"

Iwaizumi pushed off the table. He saw Oikawa flinch and just laughed softly as he relaxed back into the booth. The grip he had on his arms loosened; the warmth in his body felt like the pleasant, alcohol induced buzz he'd shot straight past on Friday night, that soothing weight over him, the sort of feeling he'd ever only felt when with Oikawa, the kind of comfort of being vulnerable with someone who he entirely trusted. He offered a faint, crooked smile and nodded, kept his half-lidded eyes downcast and curve on his lips.

"I want to go to sleep with them and wake up with them," he murmured. "I… want to feel their stupid cold feet pressed to my calves. I want to argue with them over zucchini or cucumbers at the grocery store and end up with squash. I want to go furniture shopping with them for a lamp and end up coming back with an entirely new living room set. I want to do stupid things with them and for them, just because I think it'll make them happy. I want to take last-minute three hour road trips just for some street food they found a random article on. I want to come home to them because I've never felt as safe as I do when I'm with them," he said, felt embarrassment begin to wax up his neck and threaten his face. Clearing his throat, Iwaizumi brought a hand up to his face, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "…I want to be with them so that when I feel an urge to say stupid, corny shit like that, I can just say it because they're mine and I'm theirs. If you're going to ask what I want, I want them. I want everything with them."

He heard Oikawa squeak— _literally squeak—_ and if Iwaizumi wasn't trying to hold the very last two nerves in his entire body together, he'd have teased him. Instead he reached out a shaking hand to bring his glass towards him for another sip. Oikawa had his hands over his face and he only lowered them when Iwaizumi murmured his name; he mustered the last bit of self-restraint he had to lock their eyes, knowing that his cheeks were as red as Oikawa's.

"…I really do mean it when I say that if you don't want to be with me, I'll be all right," he said softly and Oikawa blinked, brow furrowing and looking away. "I want to be with you, but I don't want that to make you feel obligated to try if you're not ready. I want you to be happy and if that's with someone else, it's fine. I just…"

He took a deep breath.

"…I can't let you walk away if I don't at least let you know how I feel and try. That's it. The ball's in your court. Whenever you're ready…" Iwaizumi paused to swallow, "let me know."

Oikawa's lips nearly disappeared into the thin line he pressed them into and he nodded, brought his hands up to his face again. Iwaizumi's face had erupted into absolute lava by this point; he gave up trying to keep himself composed and sank down into the booth, shoulders coming up as he sunk into the collar of his jacket. He swore he felt his heart in his cheeks, blood pounding through his body as everything he said hung over his head and Iwaizumi felt like he was seeing a compilation of most embarrassing moments flash through his eyes. He groaned in humiliation, mumbling an apology.

Oikawa shook his head. "N-n-no, Iwa-chan… I-I asked, thanks for—"

"Said too much, 'specially in public—"

"Y-you're a lot better with words now…"

"G-great. Thanks."

Their waitress returned with a bouncy cheer and tray full of food. Iwaizumi just barely managed to sit up in time and Oikawa removed his hands, neither looking at each other or her but mumbling their gratitude. She took one look at them and offered a smile, tilted her head. "Ah, yeah, lots of customers mentioned it's warm in here! I'll look into getting the AC lowered, all right?"

"Y-yeah, thanks…"

"Th-thank you…"

* * *

_"Iwa-chan kissed me."_

_"Huh," Matsukawa noted, eyes closed and popping a grape into his mouth. "That's a development."_

_Matsukawa waited for the signature Oikawa Whine that had an extra special, knock out effect on Iwaizumi after an initial fit of rage, but it never came. From his position of lying on the ground, he craned his neck to see Oikawa hugging his knees to his chest, mouth pressed to his knees and brow furrowed. Matsukawa frowned and pushed himself up onto an elbow. "Hey."_

_"He kissed me," Oikawa repeated in a small voice. "We're acting like it didn't happen but…"_

_There'd been no practice that day, a rare afternoon off that Matsukawa decided to spend lying in the park. Iwaizumi and Hanamaki ended up having a group project they needed to work on and when Oikawa just tagged along, Matsukawa decided it was too much effort to try and shake him off. He'd been unnaturally quiet but Matsukawa didn't think much of it; after actually staying awake in all his classes, he was more tired than usual, yawned every few meters until he'd made it to his favorite tree. He used his bag as a pillow, sighed and mumbled, "Wake me if something happens," then promptly laid down, didn't think twice of Oikawa still not saying anything._

_And while Oikawa expectedly spoke, what he said was certainly unexpected._

_"That's good, isn't it?" Matsukawa asked. "You've been head over heels for him since… what, you were born?"_

_He could tell Oikawa frowned by the way his forehead creased further. Matsukawa sighed; he seriously considered laying back down and returning to his nap, taking advantage of Oikawa's rare silence, but as peaceful as it was, it was just as worrying. He hadn't noticed any difference in Iwaizumi and Oikawa's behavior; he was so used to Iwaizumi watching Oikawa and Oikawa stealing glances that if they did so more often than usual, he certainly had no reason to be keeping tally._

_Being a good friend won out and Matsukawa laid back down but kept his eyes open and laced his fingers behind his head. "When'd it happen?"_

_"When we were walking home from your place."_

_"From the team afterparty?" he asked and Oikawa nodded and even though he was quiet and serious, his hair somehow still flounced like he was in a commercial. "That was weeks ago, wasn't it?"_

_"Yeah," Oikawa replied softly. "I asked if he wanted to sleepover and he just…"_

_He trailed off again and Matsukawa craned his neck towards him. In all his years of being Oikawa's friend, he struggled to remember a time when he saw Oikawa like this. Even after losses, he was the captain who thanked everyone for how hard they worked; he was never just quiet and sullen and before remembering what they were talking about, Matsukawa was wondering if he should text Iwaizumi to have him come fix Oikawa._

_"You don't want to be with him?" Matsukawa asked, closing his eyes and face turned towards the overhanging branches again. "Is that why you never made a move on him?"_

_"…We're best friends," Oikawa mumbled. "My entire life, he's been at my side. Every important milestone, he's been there… what if we break up? What if I lose him?"_

_Matsukawa was quiet for a moment. Giving a sigh, he shrugged languidly. "That'd stuck."_

_A beat of silence._

_"…Mattsun, that's a horrible thing to say."_

_"It's a possibility," Matsukawa continued, shrugged when he felt Oikawa feebly throw a few blades of plucked grass at his face. He calmly brushed them away. "But you guys are best friends. And who says that just because you break up, you'll lose that?"_

_"How many people have you heard of who successfully go back to being friends after breaking up?" Oikawa mumbled._

_"Yeah, but you and Iwaizumi aren't just normal friends who have only known each other a few months. You've known each other your whole lives and it might take some time apart, but you guys will eventually work it out."_

_When Oikawa didn't offer a rebuttal, Matsukawa cracked open an eye to make sure he hadn't been abandoned. Oikawa's eyes remained downcast and his fingers trembled with effort as they continued to sink into his calves. Exhaling through his nose, Matsukawa closed his eyes again. "I mean, I can't tell you what to do. But it kind of seems like you want to go for it; otherwise why would you be thinking this hard? If you strip back all your strings and thumbtacks, it comes down to if you want to be with Iwaizumi. And…"_

_Matsukawa rolled over onto his side, arm folded under his head._

_"It's not like you to take the safe route when it's about something you love."_

* * *

"You're going to turn down Iwaizumi and you think a tie's going to make it better? He doesn't even wear ties, does he?"

"…Cuff links?"

"You're missing the point."

Oikawa's lips pursed into a frown, phone held close to his face and using wireless earbuds to take his call with Matsukawa. Ever since Sakusa idly mentioned how many germs his phone had, Oikawa realized all the skincare he did in the world could be nullified by just a five minute phone call with his screen pressed right up to his face. A text conversation that was once comprised of just physical therapy related questions filled up with skincare discussions and links; Oikawa found no reason to bring this up to Atsumu or even Iwaizumi, liked forming a little friendship with Sakusa and couldn't wait to rub it in Atsumu's face someday.

Sometimes Oikawa did not feel like he was nearing thirty.

He took a moment to glance around and then back to his phone. There were still ten minutes until the agreed upon meeting time and while he had a feeling Kuroo and Kenma would be late, Oikawa was concerned that Iwaizumi would be early, walk in on a conversation about him that, even hearing just one side of it, would be far too telling. Oikawa pressed his lips into a thin line and tilted his phone as he bowed his head until his forehead nearly brushed the edge of his case. "…I can't do this," he said quietly. "I can't lose him again, Mattsun. If I do…"

He'd spent almost every spare moment of every single day thinking about Iwaizumi. The first thing he'd done when seeing Yokota again was to let him know that he was still moving on from a relationship and wasn't ready to date yet; he'd smiled and nodded, told him it was fine.

Oikawa vaguely wondered if Yokota was actually some sort of hallucination because he was just _that_ understanding and kind.

Matsukawa sighed and Oikawa's shoulders instinctively rounded. Matsukawa didn't yell; in their entire friendship, he'd never once remembered him yelling at someone and the loudest he'd get was a yelp when Oikawa kicked his chair out from under him for fun. But Oikawa, more than anyone, was aware of how exhausting this back and forth could be, prepared himself for one of the most mellow people he knew to let him have it.

But it seemed that Oikawa Tooru, the most annoying person to have ever existed, found the most eternally patient people in the world to befriend.

"All right," Matsukawa said. "If that's what you decide, then I think Iwaizumi looks good in blue. Maybe a pen, though. Something he'd actually use."

Oikawa's mouth opened but his lungs made no effort to expel air and sound, all energy going towards his rapid blinking. He managed to close his mouth and pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as they stared at a huge blown-up ad of Kageyama right across from him. Oikawa stepped to the side, decided to be face to face with Hinata's instead. "…I have to say, Mattsun, I really expected more pushback," he admitted. "Or are you that tired of me?"

"I had a nine year break from you, my stamina's fine," he answered and Oikawa huffed. "But if you made up your mind, I'm not going to try and change it. You don't listen to anyone, anyway. The only person whose opinion you really heavily weighed was Iwaizumi."

More than a week had passed since his lunch with Iwaizumi. Oikawa thought they'd been doing a fairly good job acting as they normally did until Matsukawa texted him just ten minutes after they parted ways from an unplanned coffee break where Oikawa mentioned Iwaizumi exactly just one time. Matsukawa asked what he'd done and when he thought about it, realized mentioning Iwaizumi only once in an hour was probably the tell.

He dismissed it as a result of Matsukawa's familiarity with them, but when even Sakusa asked what happened after a session, Oikawa wondered if he and Iwaizumi were that obvious or Sakusa was that observant. Atsumu didn't say anything, but from the way he and Sakusa whispered and glanced at them, Oikawa had a bad feeling that Atsumu was the one to incept the idea into Sakusa's head.

As much as Oikawa tried to block out most of their relationship from high school because the memories broke his heart, he couldn't help but remember when Iwaizumi had asked how he was able to say the cheesy, romantic things he did. He'd done his best to try and smile normally because Iwaizumi asking how Oikawa thought of the heartfelt things he'd murmur was just another reminder that they didn't feel quite the same way. But apparently sports science majors also took classes in poetry because Oikawa was left reeling for literally _days_ after what he'd said in the restaurant.

He'd brought the topic up because after his date with Yokota, Oikawa couldn't shake the idea of dating Iwaizumi from his mind. He was never able to stop thinking about Iwaizumi in general, but the very specific notion of dating him and being with him was one he'd been able to ignore, seal away with tape that read _it's not worth it._ And then he'd asked Iwaizumi in a roundabout way, thought that the tape was peeling and he just needed to hear Iwaizumi say that he also didn't want to. As soon as Iwaizumi confirmed he didn't want to, it would just be another roll of tape to be used to seal away the idea and Oikawa would be fine, he thought.

But Iwaizumi didn't say that.

Iwaizumi said he wanted to be with him. Iwaizumi had basically professed his love without ever once saying _I love you_ , but everything else had so much magnitude he didn't feel like those explicit words were needed. The food had been good when he'd been with Matsukawa but Oikawa hardly tasted it, focused too much on Iwaizumi's presence across from him and although their following conversations focused on gossiping about when Matsukawa and Hanamaki would get engaged ("you think Makki might think it's a prank?" "hope not because if Hanamaki says no it might just crush him") and Sakusa and Atsumu's newly developed relationship ("how do you not have more information?!" "because it's not my job to spy on them?!"), whenever Oikawa looked up, the way Iwaizumi smiled felt so much more transparent and gentle that he felt just one breath away from going up in flames.

Iwaizumi wanted to be with him and as much as that elated him to hear, it left him with absolutely nothing to hide behind, forced him to confront _do I want to be with him?_ and _do I want to be with him badly enough to risk everything again?_

Oikawa cleared his throat. "…I listened to you that one time about the last multiple choice question on our history homework," he mumbled feebly and Matsukawa laughed quietly.

"Yeah, because one point on a second-year assignment is the same thing as this. I'm your friend, Oikawa, but this is really the kind of thing that someone shouldn't be talking you into. But if you really want to know what I think…"

Matsukawa paused. Oikawa heard a door opening and closing in the background, frowned and wondered where he was. "I think the fact that you're struggling so hard with this means you already know what you want and you're fighting against it."

"I—"

"Hey, I'm talking, stop."

"…Okay."

Oikawa frowned again. He glanced up to see Iwaizumi approaching and immediately straightened, heart lifting the same way his spine straightened, instinctively smiled. "Mattsun, I have to go, Iwa-chan's—"

"One more thing."

"Make it fast," he mumbled as Iwaizumi drew closer and Matsukawa laughed.

"It's not like you to take the safe route when it's about something you love," Oikawa heard and stiffened. Something lodged in his throat that didn't move even when he swallowed, bit his teeth into his bottom lip. "And… do you really think you could handle it if Iwaizumi dated someone else?"

He hung up just as Iwaizumi came into earshot, answered honestly it was Matsukawa when he asked. He pulled the earbud out and felt Iwaizumi's eyes on him as he slipped it into the carrying case. "Should we wait for them before heading in or assume they'll be late?"

Iwaizumi looked good, Oikawa thought and felt his stomach plummet as he looked him over. Iwaizumi wasn't even looking at him; he was pushing his hair back and peering into the restaurant and Oikawa's eyes lingered on his neck, found himself swallowing. His eyes traced the slope of his broad shoulders, wondered how Iwaizumi managed to make an old UCI sweater with a fading logo look that good and Oikawa's hands twitched, remembered in high school when he'd steal various sweaters from Iwaizumi and how Iwaizumi always knew but never took any of them back.

"Oi, you listening to me?"

"No," Oikawa answered sweetly, smiled when Iwaizumi scowled. "What was that, Iwa-chan?"

"I said we should go in, it looks like they're getting busy."

Oikawa smiled again, nodded cheerfully. He'd just taken a step forward when the brush of Iwaizumi's hand against his chest had him stilling; it was so brief that, in hindsight, he didn't even realize if it had happened or if he'd just foreseen it and reacted. But he met Iwaizumi's pensive gaze, breath hitching when he heard, "Are you okay? Did I freak you out with what I said?"

"N-no," Oikawa answered immediately, shook his head. "I-it's not that, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi frowned. "…Are you sure?"

Because Oikawa wasn't freaked out by what Iwaizumi had said, even if he spent the week frazzled and buying a pulse oximeter because he was that sort of overdramatic person. He replayed what Iwaizumi had said over and over again, buried his face into a pillow, his hands, a sweater, his clipboard (earning him a strange look from Atsumu when Iwaizumi and Sakusa stepped outside for a moment). He spent the week thinking about Iwaizumi, daydreamed about him even more than he normally did and finally, finally admitting to himself that he wasn't freaked out at all by what he'd said, he was so elatedly happy that it didn't feel real.

And maybe, he thought, it was best to leave it at that, for his last romantic memory with Iwaizumi to be something so lovely and so earnest. He'd spent nights awake in bed, rolling around and making lists of pros and cons. He'd gotten out of bed at 1 a.m. and turned on a desk lamp to start scribbling down the reasons onto post-its and stick them onto his wall, one color for pros, one for cons.

There were so many cons:

_We tried and broke up_

_We didn't speak to each other for almost a decade_

_I can't lose him again_

_It's safer this way_

_He's my best friend_

There was only one pro:

_I love him_

But that pro was enough to hold its own against the myriad of green that peppered across Oikawa's white wall.

"I'm not freaked out, Iwa-chan," Oikawa repeated with a small smile. "I'm… really happy that you said all that to me. Thank you."

Besides Atsumu's sessions, they'd seldom seen each other that week, an unspoken, mutual agreement to keep their distance and act normal when they did see each other. Iwaizumi hadn't issued any sort of a time limit and Oikawa wondered just how long he could get away with not giving him a solid answer and if his own insides didn't feel like they would melt every time he caught Iwaizumi's eye during Atsumu's session, he'd give Test Iwa-chan's Patience Trial #7284 more consideration.

Iwaizumi flushed a little but nodded, murmured, "As long as you're okay," and they headed inside, answered the hostess with _four_ and were led to a table. It was a new shabu shabu place that had opened up; upon realizing he hadn't hung out with Kuroo in a while, Oikawa decided to provide himself with live entertainment in the form of Kuroo spilling national team secrets (hopefully including Iwaizumi) in front of Iwaizumi, explained this when Kuroo asked if he was being used as an excuse to hang out with Iwaizumi. Kuroo had brought along Kenma and Oikawa glared at his _because I don't want to be a third wheel_ explanation.

Knowing Iwaizumi's texting speed, from the time between the floating ellipses to his message, Oikawa knew he'd paused, probably was thinking about how they'd been staying away from each other. But Oikawa missed him; as much as he needed time alone to think, he also needed to be with Iwaizumi the way sunflowers chased light and raindrops each other.

He took the seat next to Iwaizumi without thinking twice about it and when he realized his chair was a little too close to his, he didn't make any effort to move it further. He did manage to keep himself from sneaking a glance to try and see Iwaizumi's reaction, but him not moving either was enough to warm his heart into a smile. Kuroo and Kenma showed up surprisingly on time, being only five minutes late, and Oikawa smiled brightly. Kuroo grinned and Kenma yawned, which seemed about right.

Nodding when he heard Iwaizumi ask if he wanted a soda, he couldn't help but finally steal a glance of him. Even just looking at his side profile, Oikawa's heart was left trying to claw out of his throat and he forced it back into his chest, studied the menu. Despite Iwaizumi having said he wasn't seeing anyone anymore, he couldn't help but think about the date; Oikawa's first thought the day he saw them was that he looked bored, but if Iwaizumi was on a date, that meant that he had _agreed_. Maybe he was like Oikawa and after just one experience, realized he didn't want to go on anymore.

But if he wasn't, if after Oikawa said he just wanted to be friends, if Iwaizumi started dating again, Oikawa didn't know how he was going to make peace with that.

However, he thought, he was a mature, sensible adult, who understood the consequences and implications of actions. By not dating Iwaizumi and expressing no interest in doing so, once Iwaizumi was ready and willing, he was free to date whomever he wanted to and Oikawa, as his friend, would support him. Oikawa would make no attempts to sabotage any future relationships Iwaizumi may or may not engage in because he had weighed the pros and cons, deliberated for weeks, and came to the conclusion that he did not wish to pursue a relationship; as a result, if Iwaizumi were to date someone else, Oikawa would be fine—

_Is that girl looking at Iwa-chan?!_

They'd started talking about what to order and after drinks were decided, the battle of soup bases began. Kenma just waved his hand and mumbled whatever was fine and Iwaizumi said the same, left just Oikawa and Kuroo to fight each other, snap that the option to choose two bases was not a viable compromise. Iwaizumi groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose at that, mumbled, "This is literally why they _have_ that option," and Oikawa had just launched into a five-paragraph essay about shaming Kuroo and his lack of spice tolerance when he noticed a girl at the next table keep glancing over.

In an entirely non-egotistical manner, Oikawa had assumed she was looking at him. Speaking through his own highly-objectively performed statistical studies, if someone was staring at a group Oikawa was in, it was usually at Oikawa. He boasted a near one hundred percent rate and even when Iwaizumi butted in to say it was much lower, it was still definitely in the upper seventies. Oikawa had gotten so used to this and so good at detecting that he hardly even had to turn his head; just one look from his peripheral vision was enough and he'd turn on the charm because if they were looking, he'd give them a show.

That being said, he _was_ surprised it wasn't Iwaizumi more often.

Iwaizumi was attractive; Oikawa had always known this, but aside from the obvious rugged handsomeness, Iwaizumi was also pretty. His light, almost unnoticeable freckles against his sun-kissed skin were pretty. His long, full lashes were pretty. His dark and eternally smoldering eyes were pretty. The way he'd laugh breathlessly with the small shake of his head was pretty. Iwaizumi had always been pretty in Oikawa's eyes, even if he'd never told him so, so when people would hit on him, Oikawa wasn't surprised, despite the way he'd tease Iwaizumi afterwards.

"Okay, fine, so we'll do half and half because Tetsu-chan has the tastebud tolerance of a baby and split the chicken karaage appetizer. Should we order before or after the cute girl finishes eyeing Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi choked on his water; Oikawa caught the way Iwaizumi's eyes darted over and the girl smiled immediately, sat a bit straighter and gave a small wave. If Iwaizumi immediately knew which girl it was, Oikawa thought, then that meant he'd noticed her (obvious) staring at some point too. But then the fact he didn't do anything about it—

Well, Oikawa then interrupted himself, this was Iwaizumi. He wouldn't be one to abandon his friends for a date, even if it was with his soulmate.

"She's not—"

"She's cute," Kuroo remarked, grinning at Iwaizumi. "Nice. You wanna go talk to her? I promise we won't eat all the meat."

Iwaizumi flushed. "I'm not going to—shut up!"

"Iwa-chan's dense as ever," Oikawa said in a light and airy voice because he'd disassociated and sent himself to a happy place where he was listing amino acids over and over again. Iwaizumi glowered and Oikawa kept the same smile, as if jealousy wasn't eating through his chest faster than hydrofluoric acid through metal.

"Shut up, Shittykawa! Choose a damn soup base!"

Oikawa noted that Iwaizumi purposely didn't look over again, even raised a hand to block the view of his face as he leaned against it. Through sheer bad luck, Oikawa accidentally caught Kuroo's eyes while returning his gaze to his menu, heard Kenma ask Iwaizumi how Hinata was doing. "Tetsu-chan, that's an incredibly unbecoming expression on you," he mumbled.

"My, Oikawa… you're not jealous, are you?"

Besides Iwaizumi, Oikawa had about three people in total he would consider good friends, and all of them continued to ask him _why_ he wasn't dating Iwaizumi. And, he'd say if he decided to grace them with an answer, it was because they had tried once and failed, that what was at stake was too much, that it was safest this way. They had lost their friendship over it and had it not been for the universe playing an elaborate prank, they most likely would have gone the rest of their lives without ever making up.

_"Really, Oikawa? Out of every bar, every career field, every hospital, every patient, you think it's all coincidence? You and Iwaizumi were always going to find the way back to each other."_

_"…I didn't realize you were such a romantic, Makki."_

_"I'm not, but I know you are, so I'm just trying to speak your language."_

Oikawa was staring at the menu again, but he found himself watching the girl out of the corner of his eye; she and her friend kept whispering and gesturing over to their table and, if Oikawa could comment, she wasn't being very subtle at all. He'd at least keep from so obviously turning his head or make use of his phone somehow, like pretending to be on a call with someone looking for him and use that as an excuse to be looking this direction. Maybe Iwaizumi would like that, though; he'd always get on Oikawa about beating around the bush, so maybe he'd like someone who was direct about her feelings.

However, her shoes were from a brand Iwaizumi didn't like, she'd wrinkled her nose at some tofu, and she let the ice in her drink melt instead of chewing it. The kiwis on her phone case led him to assume she didn't hate the fruit while Iwaizumi did and she kept leaning forward on her elbows, something that Iwaizumi always pushed Oikawa away for, mumbled _personal space, your breath stinks._

Oikawa picked up on all of this in just the last ten minutes.

That being said, Oikawa absolutely did not mind if Iwaizumi wanted to date her because she _was_ cute and even Oikawa would appreciate someone bold enough to take the first step, as she literally was doing by walking over.

Oikawa sat on the side closest to her table and though she could have gone all the way around under the guise of stopping by the washroom first, he commended the way she immediately came up to them. She stopped closer to him than to Kuroo and introduced herself with a smile. Behind her, Oikawa caught sight of her friend groaning into her hands.

"Hi. Sorry to interrupt, but—" she paused and looked at Oikawa, who smiled easily. "My friend thinks you're cute and wants to ask you for your number but she's too shy."

Oikawa's smile didn't falter. "That's very flattering, but I'm in a relationship. Sorry."

"Oh you are, are you?" Kuroo asked and Oikawa kicked him again, this time hard enough for him to wince.

"How about you?" the girl asked, slanting her gaze to Iwaizumi and Oikawa trained his eyes on his glass in front of him.

He could hear Iwaizumi clear his throat; Oikawa would always be amused that even though Iwaizumi must have gotten hit on fairly often by now, he'd always act like it was the first time.

"Me what? For your friend?"

Oikawa's lips twitched. _Iwa-chan, you're so stupid._

This was fine. He'd made his choice and this would undoubtedly happen, so it may as well start now.

"No," she answered smoothly. "For me because I think you're cute. So can I get your number? Or we can get coffee first if you'd prefer that."

Oikawa pretended he didn't notice the way Iwaizumi's gaze flickered on him for his reaction; he also pretended he didn't notice Kuroo or Kenma's, but gave Kuroo his third kick in under fifteen minutes. He reached for his water and took a sip, listened to Iwaizumi fumble and try to buy himself time.

Of course, Oikawa thought, he could handle it if Iwaizumi dated someone else. He wouldn't _like_ it but he'd be all right with it because he was a mature, rational, sensible adult who made a literal pros and cons list that was still up on his wall. He was a responsible adult who thought through all the different scenarios and while there was only one good scenario, there were at least five bad ones, so the safe choice was to stay as Iwaizumi's friend, and perhaps him dating would make that easier—

"He has plans tonight," Oikawa heard himself saying, felt everyone at the table, including Iwaizumi, immediately steer their gazes to him. Oikawa looked at the girl with the same perfectly symmetrical smile. "He's also off-market. Sorry."

She was surprised, glossy pink lips mouthing _oh_. Her long lashes batted at him for a few moments and then to Iwaizumi; it happened one more time before she gathered herself and smiled, shook her head and apologized. If Oikawa's vision hadn't tunneled and he could hear anything besides his own heartbeat, he could've commended on her how gracefully she took the rejection, how she looked over to smile and bow her head in apology again as she left the restaurant with her friend.

But his vision had tunneled and he couldn't hear anything besides his own heartbeat.

Oikawa trained his gaze on the menu but the characters were swimming before him. From the corners of his eyes, he could see both Kuroo and Iwaizumi's lips moving, distantly heard voices sounding words that blurred together into white noise. Kenma was able to put a hand on Kuroo to silence him, but he made no move to do the same with Iwaizumi. When the sound of his blood rushing subsided, Oikawa was able to listen to his own breathing, focused on that.

And it was working; he was focusing on his breathing, moved onto listing the periodic table until he felt Iwaizumi's hand on his arm.

High voltage electricity left his skin searing, lifted the fog to reveal the metaphorical car crash he had just caused and Oikawa had no choice but to face where he was, who he was with, and what he had done. Breathing in sharply, he made no move to specifically jerk his arm away, though he stood so quickly his chair threatened to topple, rasped _bathroom._

His feet stumbled, tripped over each other through the apparent maze to the washroom. Oikawa slammed his palm against the door to throw it open and the instant rush of cool air barely registered against frazzled skin and flushed cheeks. Oikawa's eyes closed as he pressed his hands onto the sink counter and bowed his head, heard the door close. Not even a few seconds passed before it opened again and he didn't even need to turn to look and even before he heard the voice, he knew who followed him.

"Oikawa."

Iwaizumi's deep, baritone voice rang through the empty bathroom even before the door fully closed, sending shivers scaling down Oikawa's spine.

"…Sorry, Iwa-chan," Oikawa cleared his throat and turned on the faucet shakily. The heel of his palm pressed to the soap dispenser and he lathered, watched the suds slide off his hands under the water. "I'm sure if you leave now, you can still catch up with them. She was really cute; her friend had better taste, but, alas—"

" _Oikawa_."

Turning the faucet off and shaking his hands a few times before drying them off with a paper towel, Oikawa swallowed thickly; his cheeks were scarlet at this point and there was no use in pretending otherwise or playing it off. He had just made it painfully obvious to both himself and Iwaizumi how he felt about him dating and wished he'd come to this realization in privacy, so he could process the fact that he was definitely not okay with Iwaizumi dating anyone else and arrive at a conclusion that, until now, he was so sure he was against.

"…Iwa-chan," he said, finally, turning to face him but keeping his eyes downcast. He leaned a hip against the sink counter and tossed the used-up paper towels in the nearby trash can. "…Sorry, I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't be turning down dates for you."

He heard Iwaizumi inhale sharply and could see his hands come to a rest inside his pockets. Iwaizumi kicked at the floor and cleared his throat, took a step away from the door but not necessarily towards Oikawa. "I was going to say no," Oikawa heard and closed his eyes, felt his heart inch back to its original resting place. "…Can I ask something?" Iwaizumi continued and Oikawa's lips leveled, throat instantly drying.

Oikawa knew what the question was even without Iwaizumi needing to verbalize it, but he nodded numbly and licked his lips.

Iwaizumi audibly inhaled.

"…Is the problem me dating in general or just me dating someone who isn't you?"

Oikawa was expecting it, but his breath caught in his throat anyway. He shifted and found himself wishing for someone to walk in right at that moment; it would be his best way to get out of this situation, run out of the restaurant, disappear for a week or two and figure out how to erase Iwaizumi's memory of this event.

Or, he thought, he could just be honest.

He took a deep breath.

"…It's you dating someone who isn't me," he said quietly, shoulders rounding. "…Sorry."

Because if anyone else asked Iwaizumi on a date and Oikawa was there, he'd probably do this again. He'd keep doing it unless Iwaizumi told him to stop because it was one thing if they weren't together and both single, but it was a whole different issue if not only were they not together, but Iwaizumi was someone else's. Oikawa thought he could handle the idea if enough time passed, but when he was confronted with the possibility materializing in a reality, he was quick to realize the pit of jealousy smoldering in his stomach wasn't going to go away with time and that his post-its were wrong, numbers were wrong, statistics were wrong and only thing one mattered and it was that every single part of Oikawa's existence would yearn for Iwaizumi even when he was his.

Matsukawa was right, he thought; he'd known all along what he wanted and just tried every single excuse in the book to delude himself but when it came down to it, the honesty in his feelings for Iwaizumi would always come to light.

Sucking in his cheeks for a moment, Oikawa shifted. His hands moved from grasping his arms to cupping his elbows, sank his nails into the flesh as much as he could through his shirt and cleared his throat. "I want to be with you," he admitted in a strained voice, squeezing his eyes shut. "I've... always wanted that, but because of what happened the first time we dated, I was terrified. So I thought eventually I'd get over that but… but I don't think I ever will. Even with everything that happened, nothing is ever going to stop me from wanting to be with you."

His ears felt numb, he thought, and then realized he could never really feel them anyway. His cheeks were definitely flushed and the dull ache in his arms wasn't nearly enough to ground him; for a brief moment, he considered pressing down on his knee just to feel anything, but the physiotherapist part of his brain yelled at him that he already felt stupid enough, he didn't need to add onto it. Forcing his arms free, one pressed to the counter his hip still leaned against and the other ran through his hair.

His eyes lifted from the tiled floor to the marble counters, to the automatic faucets to the wall-hung soap dispensers, to the stainless steel trash can and landscape photography on the wall. His eyes looked everywhere except at Iwaizumi, and finally returned to focusing on his own two feet, remember the afternoon in high school they'd spend going from mall to mall because Iwaizumi wanted one specific pair of shoes and though he insisted it was fine to get another, Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi really wanted them. So after going home with him, he then immediately left again, continued to scour through every shoe store in Miyagi until he found them, just ten minutes shy of closing.

Then when he gave them to Iwaizumi the next day, just smiled and said it turned out he'd had a spare in his closet this whole time, grinned and threw up a peace sign when Iwaizumi swore at him.

"I want you," Oikawa mumbled, blush creeping to the highpoints of his cheekbones, tongue slowed by a lifetime of feelings threatening to spill. "I want to be with you, I want to grow old with you, I want _you_ entirely. I want to spend the rest of my life wooing you even though you're the one I come home to. I want horrible kitchen mishaps because of a stand mixer or lid-less blender, arguing over whose parents we deal with at holidays to just end up staying in Tokyo, blaming each other when we get locked out but going to the locksmith together… if, well, _when_ we're the best men at Makki and Mattsun's wedding, I want to look across the aisle to smile at you and know that that's going to be us someday."

Oikawa took a deep breath, felt tears springing to his eyes.

"I want daylight and moonlight with you. I want lazy mornings turning into busy errand afternoons, ending with late nights just drinking wine and laughing and reminiscing. I want flipping through photo albums and laughing at unflattering pictures and videos when we're old and gray. I want to be so comfortable cuddling with you that even reaching for my phone feels like I'd have to be too far away. I want to complain about stubble but kiss you every chance I get anyway. I want to brag to the world how you're mine and I'm yours, and we have really tacky couples' items to prove it. I want _you_ , Hajime, I want you entirely to myself forever. And I was able to convince myself all of that would pass, but then you said all that…"

Oikawa drummed his fingers along the counter. The palm on his neck came down and found a place in his pocket; he moved one shoulder and looked up with a lopsided smile, knew a glow continued to ebb on his cheeks as he looked at Iwaizumi. "…You said all that," he repeated, voice shaking, "and because you want it too, I couldn't pretend I didn't. Not anymore. As long as you do, as long as there's that hope of us, I can't give up the idea of being with you. I want you to be happy, Iwa-chan, I want that above all else, and I want to be with you. Best case scenario is that me being with you makes you happiest, and when you said all that…"

He straightened, a small distance between his hip and the counter, his other pocket soon homing a hand as well. "You're it for me," Oikawa said with the same look and same smile and same voice. "That's… that's really all there is to it. You have always been _it_ for me. Before I knew what love really was, when I thought I hated you, and even after a hundred years, you're _it._ You're why I'm brave. You're why I try so hard. You're why I breathe. You're absolutely everything to me and no matter what happens with us, no matter how much time passes, I will always, always feel this way for you because my heart doesn't just beat for you, it beats because of you. I can't remember a time I didn't feel this way and knowing that you want it too… I can't walk away from you, not when there's a tiny chance, I can't be the one to say no because I can't lie to you—"

"Oh, god, you are so fucking _stupid_ , Oikawa."

Iwaizumi's voice sounded strained and Oikawa met a wavering, glassy gaze that arched his lips. It was only two steps for him to come forward and Oikawa instinctively gasped, his long lashes fluttering to nearly brush against his cheeks as Iwaizumi's hands cupped his face, warm and calloused hands lining his jaw. "What, you think I'm gonna walk away?" Iwaizumi asked, voice gruff and Oikawa's hands came to tentatively rest on his hips, base of his palms and pads of his fingers timid to the touch. "You really… you really think I'd _ever_ walk away from you again? God, I knew you were stupid, but…"

"Stop calling me stupid," Oikawa mumbled, shivers timbering through his frame at hearing a low, breathy reciprocation from Iwaizumi. "You're so mean, Iwa-chan…"

Oikawa's eyes opened, sunrise cresting over his cheeks while stars hung in his eyes as he saw the same expression mirrored on Iwaizumi. His smile was more tilted, his eyes darker, but they glinted so brightly and Oikawa couldn't help but laugh again and bring their foreheads together. "We're doing this?" he breathed, his heart skipped a beat the same moment his lungs expanded more than he thought possible. "We're really doing this?"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi promised and Oikawa felt a kiss to the corner of his mouth, tears lining his lashes. "We're doing this. And it's gonna work this time because I'm not losing you, Tooru, I'm never losing you again."

This, Oikawa thought, this single moment almost felt like it was worth the years of missing him. This single moment where he was close to Iwaizumi, felt even the memory of a smile in his breath, when he bared himself for Iwaizumi and was caught so gracefully and lovingly. How they'd lost so much time but learned his own strength in the most brutal way, just so he could come back to Iwaizumi, knowing that he'd made it home and he'd never leave again. This moment when it was just the two of them in the entire universe, made of cosmic dust and intertwining between the stars, a galaxy of love and nebula of warmth.

"You're never going to," Oikawa promised and then he closed the distance between them, pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss against Iwaizumi's lips. His fingers hooked through his belt loops to bring him close, almost instantaneously felt Iwaizumi's hands on his back, follow the curve of his body and hoist him onto the counter. Oikawa's legs instinctively parted, pulled Iwaizumi close and it was only when their bodies were flush together that his arms moved to rest on Iwaizumi's broad shoulders.

Wrists crossed lazily behind his head, bent at the elbow to draw Iwaizumi in as much as possible as their lips interlocked over and over again. Oikawa couldn't help but smile; he couldn't help the flurry of happiness that kindled in his chest and tickled his throat. He heard Iwaizumi grumble _shut up_ but felt the way his lips stretched as well, laughed softly between kisses. One of Iwaizumi's hands moved to cup the back of his head; his lips were so warm, left Oikawa's brain turning to jelly and then liquifying entirely when Iwaizumi switched to using his teeth, pulled and tugged at Oikawa's bottom lip and he felt a sigh return his breathy moan. Iwaizumi released his lip but Oikawa only had a moment before Iwaizumi was kissing him again, slipped his tongue into Oikawa's still slightly opened mouth.

And then when his tongue curled against the roof of Oikawa's mouth like _that_ , laughing was the very last thing on Oikawa's mind and the heat in his chest felt like it exploded.

He felt a sharp tug at his hair; Oikawa gasped and his head fell back, chased the sensation until he felt the mouth that had claimed his own press along his neck. Oikawa groaned quietly, bit his lip, craned his head to the opposite side and fisted Iwaizumi's sweater. Iwaizumi's tongue and teeth alternated in a way that left his breaths trembling, hot as they ghosted over the shell of his ear. His shoulder threatened to raise until Iwaizumi was leaving kisses along his neck again and Oikawa's brow furrowed, entire body shook with a suppressed moan. A whispered _Iwa-chan_ had Iwaizumi's mouth returning to his, hooked arm around his neck to hold him close as he kissed him until their lips went from aching to entirely numb, until his ankles hooked behind Iwaizumi to draw him flush to himself, until all Oikawa was aware of was Iwaizumi kissing him and Iwaizumi holding him because he was entirely and wholly his.

Until the door opened and they broke apart just so Oikawa could hide his face in the crook of Iwaizumi's neck. He heard a stammered apology and Iwaizumi murmuring that it was fine, voice so strange that Oikawa had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He shook his head stubbornly at Iwaizumi's warning murmur of his name and even as he pressed his lips into a thin line, couldn't suppress the slight shaking of repressed laughter when he heard the faucet furthest away from them turn on. His arms tightened their embrace around him, thumb rubbing circles on the back of Iwaizumi's shoulder as he grinned, despite the pressure of his teeth on his bottom lip. Iwaizumi was whispering vague threats in his ear at the same time his warm hand found a spot on Oikawa's hunched back, _I'm gonna kill you_ and _for fuck's sake, stop laughing_ and _I hate you so much, Shittykawa_ entirely losing their venom because Oikawa could hear Iwaizumi's smile.

His lips hovered by his ear and then there was another apology, a, "I _really_ needed to wash my hands, s-sorry—" and that was the second and last time Iwaizumi drew back just barely enough to answer with, "Don't worry about it, have a good lunch."

And then as soon as the door closed Oikawa was laughing, head raising and shoulders shaking while Iwaizumi stared at the ceiling, most likely contemplating every social interaction he'd ever had. Oikawa's chest twinkled with laughter, felt so warm and so happy and so pleased with an eruption of adoration for Iwaizumi, who probably never wanted to speak to a human again. "'Have a good lunch'?" Oikawa echoed, threatening tears spilling from his eyes. "' _Have a good lunch'?_ Has Iwa-chan turned into a _waiter_? I'm…"

"Shut _up_ , I didn't know what else to say when he walked in on us sucking face," Iwaizumi groaned. He leaned forward until his forehead met Oikawa's shoulder, embraced him with the same smile, laughs softening as Oikawa pressed his cheek to his head. His laughs eventually faded but left much more than just a faint memory on his lips, smiled as he pressed a kiss against Iwaizumi's hair. " _Fuck_ … I think he sat at the table next to ours too…"

"Iwa-chan's so awkward," Oikawa murmured, nuzzled into his hair and pressed another kiss to right above his ear. Iwaizumi swore quietly, and Oikawa grinned, tightened his embrace as Iwaizumi leaned against him, his own arms loose around his waist. His half-lidded eyes gazed fondly at Iwaizumi, smile widening until it seemed like it shouldn't be able to fit within the boundaries of his cheeks. "It's so cute, but maybe I'll do the talking for both of us in the future, okay?"

"You already do… you never shut up."

"Iwa-chan likes it."

"You think that? Do you really think that?"

Iwaizumi sighed again, breath against a sensitive part of Oikawa's neck causing him to squirm. He'd hoped Iwaizumi wouldn't notice but of course he did; he did it again, kept sighing onto his neck until Oikawa was laughing again, wiggling in his grasp but not at all away from him. "S-stop, Iwa-chan! It tickles, stop…"

Oikawa's whine was halfhearted at best; his smile undercut absolutely any attempt to tease, but he couldn't help it and wouldn't have it any other way, loved that happiness spilled out of him so fervently. Iwaizumi brought their foreheads together, smiled fondly and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "We're doing this," he said softly and Oikawa's smile widened, nodding. "And we're not fucking it up this time."

His heart pattered like raindrops, fervently and loyally. Oikawa nodded, hands coming to frame his face and brush his thumbs over Iwaizumi's cheekbones.

"We're doing this," Oikawa repeated breathily, then hooked a leg around Iwaizumi to briefly press their hips together, smile turning wicked, "and we're doing _that_ when we get home," he teased and was met with Iwaizumi's smirk. He took a moment to watch him quietly and barely resisted stealing another kiss before sighing, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "But until then, we should get back to the table because if we take too long, Tetsu-chan's gonna make us pay."

Bringing up Kuroo was one of the last two things he wanted to do, beat out only by putting any sort of distance between him and Iwaizumi. Oikawa was compiling a list of the consequences they'd face if he shoved Iwaizumi into the nearest stall to do exactly what he wanted to, hated that he was choosing _now_ to be responsible if only to ensure Kuroo wouldn't walk into a lifetime's worth of blackmail as a result of good timing. Sighing at his ability to think through consequences, he leaned in to innocently bump their noses together, Oikawa's wrinkling as he pulled back and grinned at the quiet laugh Iwaizumi gave.

Iwaizumi kissed him again, mumbled _tease_ before he pulled back and left Oikawa's heart skittering and lips buzzing. It took him a second to open his eyes; Iwaizumi's lips broke from his but contact was reestablished by his forehead and as Oikawa basked in his warmth, arms still on his shoulders, he thought that scientists had been wrong all this time; he was pressed right up to the sun and all he felt was a pleasant warmth that he wanted to spend the rest of his life basking in. "Yeah…" Iwaizumi returned, tone weighed with obvious reluctance. "I really don't want to see his face right now, but I also don't want to pay for him. We should get going."

"Yeah," Oikawa agreed, looking at him so adoringly and making no effort to move.

Iwaizumi smirked, one eyebrow quirking and Oikawa immediately moved to press a kiss to the arch. "You're not moving."

"You aren't either," Oikawa teased and Iwaizumi's smirk relaxed, eyes closing even before Oikawa's mouth was over his nose, dipped a bit more to leave one last memory on his lips. His arms shifted to bring Iwaizumi closer as he felt his hands rest on his waist and Oikawa's eyes closed, exhaled and felt the weight of the world lift from his chest because he held it in his arms now. Someone could walk in again, he thought, and they probably would. And they'd feel awkward and, technically, Oikawa knew that he should as well, but he didn't.

He wouldn't notice if the fire alarm went off or sprinklers doused them in cold water; Oikawa didn't think they'd even feel an earthquake because Iwaizumi was in his arms and that was all that mattered, that it took almost a decade to reach this single point in time that left him so elated because in a world where misery almost always outweighed happiness, this was one of the few times where one single moment made the years leading up to it feel worth it.

It was like coming up to the surface for air, bursting through the surface in time to see sunlight peer through parting, dark clouds. It was like coming home after almost a decade to find that while nothing had changed, while his heart still thundered for Iwaizumi, everything had changed and the way Iwaizumi looked at him was like looking in a mirror. It took a third of their lives but everything fell in place after Oikawa had tried to send the remnants into orbit, shattered pieces finding their way back the way Iwaizumi and Oikawa did because maybe all this time, _this_ was what was meant to be and _this_ was what the fabric of the universe had planned all along. The pressure that threatened to swallow him hadn't been a black hole after all, he thought. It wasn't that he was at a risk of disappearing into himself, it was that a star was being born because if he was with Iwaizumi, they were so much more together than they were apart.

He thought about how after high school, he felt like he lost almost everything and after his knee, he lost the only thing he had left. He thought about how he'd thrown himself into another discipline and to avoid a looming existential crisis, decided to avoid all crises entirely and turned his world into monochrome. He thought about how even when he was so drunk that he couldn't even feel his own clothes against his skin, Iwaizumi hesitating behind him sent flurries of fireworks through his body and what started as blindingly bright red mellowed into sunrises they used to accidentally watch together after unknowingly pull an all nighter.

How after everything when he thought he'd lost it all, what meant the most to him came back and in this moment, Oikawa knew that this was where he was meant to be, and this was who he was meant to be with.

He inhaled, eyes opening and gazed at Iwaizumi endearingly, memorized the curve of his cheek beneath his palm. "But before that…" he murmured, tilted his head. "Iwa-chan's welcome."

"Welcome?" Iwaizumi echoed, tilted his head in a way that made Oikawa want to kiss him again. "For what, asshole?"

"For turning down Iwa-chan's date," Oikawa responded easily and Iwaizumi scoffed, rolled his eyes.

"You made _one_ good call, Shittykawa, don't let it get to your head."

Oikawa laughed and when he saw the way Iwaizumi's eyes closed, the way he smiled as he sighed at the sound had an absolute ember blazing in Oikawa's chest where his heart should be, sparks lining his ribs and turning into fireworks. His arms pulled back until both palms rested along Iwaizumi's jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheeks and followed the curve of his ear as Oikawa leaned in, bumped their noses together.

"I made the only good call that matters, Iwa-chan. So, yes, I _will_ let it get to my head."

* * *

"You think they're doing it?"

"Kuro, don't be crass."

"I'm just saying—"

Kenma reached across the table, taking Iwaizumi's soda.

"But yeah, probably. If you don't want Oikawa's soda, I'll take it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have written so, so many confessions for iwa and oikawa and somehow it just never gets old. every time i have a chance to do so i just jump at it because even though i'm really not that romantic of a person, something about iwa and oikawa... it's aligned in the stars and i am but a puppet of the universe
> 
> thank you for reading!! i hope this chapter has made all the waiting and suffering worth it :) comments/kudos lovely and adored as always ♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/umebomi) (i'm going to start properly using it someday i swear i will)


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